A Dance with Demons
by jrwilson
Summary: AU. Valentine raised Clarissa and Jonathan Christopher as his own children, and told them that he needed to keep them a secret from the world. Clarissa escapes and while hiding in New York, she meets Jace Herondale.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: Wayland Manor**

Clarissa Wayland stared out of the wide window as sheets of rain slashed into the ground below. She let her forehead fall against the damp wet surface and she closed her eyes tight.

A weight descended on her shoulder, and she flinched away. "Jonathan? You aren't supposed to be up here."

"Father's not here to impose his rules. I can do whatever I want."

"He left again? He didn't tell me."

"He didn't tell you because he doesn't love you."

"And you think he loves you? His ghost."

Jonathan laughed. "I know he doesn't love me. The difference between you and me, sweet sister, is that I don't care."

"You're a monster." She shrugged away from him, but as she did she noticed a trail of red swollen skin peaking out of his shirt.

She grimaced. "Did he hurt you again? Damn it. Let me see."

He backed away. "I don't want your pity."

"Jonathan, please. You know I hate it when he hurts you."

"Why do you care?" His black eyes narrowed.

She wanted to tell him that she loved him. She wanted to scream that he was her brother. But she knew that trying to appeal to him in that way was useless. He would just laugh and call her weak as he always did. Could she even love someone or was just as much of a demon as Jonathan? Her father had told them so many times that they were demons made flesh, his experiments. They had to stay hidden in this dark wasteland of a manor, so that no one would ever know that they existed. Jonathan was all she had, and no matter how awful he was, being alone scared her more than he did.

"If he kills you, I would be bored," she said finally, knowing he would accept that answer as sound.

He nodded.

"Why did he do it this time?"

Jonathan's lips turned up in a sly grin. "I found one of his secrets."

"Really?"

"I'll show you, if you want."

"Only if you're sure that Father is really gone."

"I'm sure." He grabbed her wrist and led her out of her bedroom in the tower, down a long winding set of stairs, and out of the manor past the stables.

He stopped at a small brick structure that was for the most part hidden by a tangle o vines. Clarissa stepped backward, breaking loose from Jonathan's grasp.

"You know we can't go in there. Father said ..."

"You care too much about Father's rules." He touched a loose strand of her copper curls. "Aren't you curious?"

She bit her lower lip. "I don't know."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll let you heal me with a rune, if you wish."

She sighed. He must really want her to go with him. He never let her heal him. He seemed to like wearing his scars as if they were badges of glory.

"Okay, Jonathan. I'll go in with you."

He pulled a large brass key from his pocket, and turned the key in the rusted padlock. The door squeaked loudly as it opened. Jonathan slipped inside, and she followed, feeling the odd dampness in the air stick to her skin. She shivered.

She followed Jonathan as he walked talked the center of the room. There was a large rectangular box covered with a wool blanket. Jonathan ripped the blanket away exposing a glass coffin. There was a beautiful woman laying on satin in the casement. Long red curls framed her face. Clarissa lifted her hand to touch her own red curls. Her features were sharp and angled, and her eyes were shut. She looked peaceful.

"She looks like me," Clarissa said.

Jonathan nodded. "She's our mother."

Clarissa gasped. "Are you certain?"

"Father told me."

Clarissa placed her hands on the glass. "Is she dead?"

Jonathan placed his hand on her shoulder. "No. I was thinking that maybe you could wake her up with one of your runes."


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is my first Mortal Instruments Fanfic. I'm so thrilled I have readers already! Thanks to everyone who is reading! And I am extremely grateful for the early reviews - definitely very motivating.

**Chapter 1: Mother Dearest**

Clarissa snorted. "Although I'm flattered at your assessment of my skills, I doubt I can just _magic _her awake. I have no idea what happened to her. Do you think Father did this? Do you think he froze her?"

Jonathan smirked. "Of course Father did it. And I bet you could wake her up if you really tried."

"I'll think about it," Clarissa lied. She didn't need to think about it. An image of a rune was already crystallizing in her mind. It was a rose bud, with one petal fighting to break away. The rose bud was set inside the iris of a wide eye. This was a very detailed image, and she wasn't entirely sure she could draw it. She fingered her stele, in the pocket of her trousers. She would try, but not with Jonathan present.

"I'm disappointed, little sister."

"My heart's breaking," she let the sarcasm drip heavily into the words.

Later that evening, well past the witching hour, Clarissa entered Jonathan's bedroom and stared down at his sleeping form. He would be out well into the morning, she had made sure of it by slipping a dose of sleeping powder into the tea he always drank after dinner. She looked around the room, and saw the pants he had worn earlier tossed lazily over a chaise. She fumbled through the pockets until she felt the brass key that he had used earlier. She took a long hard breath. That had been easier than she expected. He was usually so careful with his possessions; maybe the sleeping powder had worked even better than she had hoped.

Trembling in a thick sweater, Clarissa stole across the grounds of the manor, a torch lighting her way. She stopped short at the vine-covered building.

She inserted the key into the lock and turned it until she felt a hard click. Was she really going to do this? Her breath caught up in her throat. She could go back. She had been moving as if she was a puppet on a string ever since Jonathan had shown her the frozen form of the woman who could be her mother. If she went back she could pretend none of it had ever happened, and go right back to ... to the suffocating hell that was her life. She sighed, and pushed the heavy door open, letting the light from her torch illuminate the cloth covered glass case. Slowly, she approached it, her chest tight. She ripped the cloth away, exposing the woman. She wasn't exactly sure how to open the case. She felt around the rim of the glass top with her fingers, until she felt a small depression. She pulled, and the top plate of glass inched open, and she kept pulling until she had completely removed the heavy glass top, which she struggled to place on the floor. She wondered if it would have shattered if she had let it drop unaided.

Her eyes darted back to the woman, whose fair skin almost glowed in the inky blackness. She set up the torch so that it illuminated the woman's hands, and she started to draw. It was like it always was with a new rune. She lost control, and something inside of her took over - the demon blood. She had decided years ago that the reason she and Jonathan were so different was that his demon was integrated into his personality, but hers was there but somehow separate.

A light flooded the room. "I knew you could do it." Jonathan's voice seeped into the room.

She twisted away from the woman and glared at her brother. "You were _asleep_."

"I was _pretending_. When will you ever learn that I'm smarter than you?"

Jonathan's eyes widened, and Clarissa spun around to see what he was looking at. The woman was sitting up, her dark red hair cascading down her shoulders. She raised her arms up and yawned.

"Mother?" Jonathan said, taking a step towards her and Clarissa.

"What?" The woman said. "Who are you?"

"We're your children," Jonathan said.

"No, no, no. That's not possible," she said. She glanced around the dark confines. "Where are we?"

"Wayland manor," he told her. "And you're Jocelyn Wayland."

"No, I'm not," she responded. "I'm Jocelyn Fairchild. No, I was Jocelyn Fairchild. Now I'm Jocelyn Morgenstern."

He shook his head fiercely. "You married Michael Wayland."

She narrowed her eyes. "I did not."

"Look," Clarissa said, a not of soft desperation in her voice. "Clearly there are some details to work out. We aren't certain that you're our mother. It was a guess. We don't really know who you are at all. How about you come into the house with us and we fix you something to eat and drink?"

Jocelyn touched the rim of the glass case. "What happened to me?"

"We think our father froze you with some sort of magic. We don't know how long you've been here. Why don't you come inside with us?"

Clarrisa offered her hand to Jocelyn and helped her climb out of the case.

Once she was standing, Jocelyn touched Clarissa's hair. "You look like me," she said. "How old are you? What's your name?"

"Fifteen and my name is Clarissa Wayland."

"I named my daughter Clarissa. She was just a little baby in my arms. Could Valentine really have frozen me for fifteen years?"

"Our Father's name is Michael," Jonathan insisted, moving toward her. He touched her arm and she shrank away from him. "Oh god, you're him. This can't be real, it just can't."

"I'm who? Who do you think I am?"

"My son, Jonathan Christopher. I thought I killed you."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Escape**

Jonathan narrowed his eyes. "Killed me? Why would you kill me? I'm your son."

"You're a monster. Valentine corrupted you. I was doing the world a service," she hissed, and then looked down at her hands. "He must have tricked me. The last thing I remember is holding your dead body in my arms. He must have found a way to save you."

Clarissa knew in her heart that there was something deeply wrong with her brother, but she also knew that he had held on to a belief that he would find their mother someday and once he found her, she would save him from himself. She stared deep into his eyes and watched as the last remaining spark of hope drained out of their inky depths. She flicked her head back at the woman, hatred seeping through her veins. How dare this woman - this stranger - destroy her brother?

Clarissa rested her hand on Jonathan's arm, and he flinched away from her. "Don't touch me." He turned back to the woman. "What about Clarissa? Is she a monster too? I've always wondered."

"No," the woman said softly. "I never let him experiment with her. I kept her safe."

Jonathan looked at Clarissa, his black eyes flashing. She cringed, feeling oddly as if she had betrayed him somehow. He turned and fled the room.

Clarissa intended to follow him, but the woman grabbed her arm, stopping her with surprising strength.

"He's not yours. You may think he is, but you're wrong."

"You have no idea what you're talking about. He's all I have. He's my brother," Clarissa responded.

"You're gravely mistaken. Look, I have to leave now before Valentine returns and it's too late, but ..." the woman stumbled. "You may think you don't need me, but you may change you're mind. Magnus Bane can find me. He's likely somewhere in New York City."

Clarissa shook her head, she had never heard of Magnus Bane or New York City. "I won't need you."

"We'll see." The woman's eyes flashed as she snatched the stele out of Clarissa's hand, and quickly drew a small symbol on her forearm, and then she disappeared, the stele clattering to the floor.

Clarissa was good with runes, better than she should be, as her father always said. She hadn't recognized the rune the woman had drawn, but she memorized it quickly, filing it away for later use. She grabbed her stele from the ground and stuffed it in her pocket, before running out of the building. She tried to think her way through Jonathan's steps. Even though their father would be angry, Jonathan would want to tell him about the woman. She wondered briefly if he would find some way to blame her for the events that led to the woman's escape - probably. She went after him anyway. He was her brother. He was all she had.

She finally found him sitting in a leather recliner in their father's office, sifting through files from their father's locked cabinets.

"Father won't be happy. He'll know you were in here."

"It doesn't matter."

"Jonathan, it does matter. You know how he gets when you defy him. He'll hurt you again."

Ignoring her, he threw the file on the floor and grabbed another from the cabinet.

"Jonathan - talk to me. Please."

He stared up at her. "You're nothing to me."

"That's not true," she whispered.

"I thought we were the same, but apparently I was wrong."

She closed her eyes. "We are the same."

"We are not!" He screamed. "We are not the same. You are nobody - just a human girl, like a million others. I am so much more than human. Do you know that Father tried to kill me this morning? He said that he had made a mistake. He thought he could use me in his secret plans for a war with the council and the downworlders, but after much consideration he had decided that I was too dangerous and that he would have to put me down like a mad dog."

"He tried to kill you? What do you mean? That can't be true."

He scowled at her. "You think you know everything. You know nothing."

"Jonathan, where is father?"

Jonathan smiled a sweetly sickening smile. "Why dear sister, he's in his bedroom. Why don't you check on him, while I continue going through father's study? Then we'll have a little chat. I'll have to decide what to do with you and mother."

She backed slowly out of the room. Jonathan didn't know that the woman had portaled out of the manor house. Their father had always said that they could never leave the grounds. There was only one way out, and he would never tell them. That must be what Jonathan was looking for in Father's documents - a way out. But the rune the woman had used worked, and Clarissa remembered it.

Once she was out of earshot of the study she ran up to their father's bedchamber, and forced open the heavy oak door.

A vinyl cord was strung around her father's neck, and he was strung up to a hook that had somehow been jammed into the plaster of the ceiling. He was naked. She had never seen him naked before; it made her feel as if looking at him was somehow wrong. Looking up towards his face, it was apparent that his eyes had been ripped out. She walked around, and saw that narrow strips of his skin had been flayed from his backside. Perhaps Jonathan had tortured him. She felt as if she should mourn the loss of her father, but she didn't. She just felt cold. She closed her eyes. What was she supposed to do now? Her father was dead; her newly found mother was on the run; and Jonathan was wrapped up in a nightmare. She licked her lips. She wouldn't be able to pull him out of it - not alone. Maybe their mother could do something. She owed them more than a flash appearance in their lives. If anyone could reason with Jonathan, it would have to be the woman claiming to be their mother. He had clung to the hope of her for so long. Of course, she hadn't seemed to be brimming with love for either of them, but Clarissa wondered if she could fashion a rune to change that. She'd have to consider it. Either way, she couldn't stay here. Jonathan was raging, and without their father here to keep him in check, she wasn't certain she was safe. She ran back up to her room, and packed a small bag with a change of clothes and the small collection of jewelry her father had given her over the years - it must be worth something in the larger world. She pulled out the stele from her pocket and hastily sketched the rune she had seen the woman draw on her left forearm. She felt the air sizzle and crack and she wasn't in her room anymore. The stele was gone, but the bag holding her few possessions was still across her shoulder. She wondered idly why the stele hadn't been transported with her, but the bag had made the journey. A mystery. She took a deep breath and analyzed her surroundings. She was in a tight space. There was an odd door in front of her with a latch keeping it shut. She turned around and faced a toilet, and a strange contraption that stored toilet paper. Stranger and stranger. There were female voices buzzing around her. This was it. Brave new world. She fiddled with latch, and opened the door.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Pandemonium Club**

She pushed open the door and was faced with a milling group of women, fixing their hair, applying face paint, and chatting amongst themselves. Clarissa frowned. She had seen other women before, although only from a distance. Her father would occasionally invite groups of his associates to their home for meetings, dinners and even small parties - but neither Clarissa nor Jonathan were ever invited. They just watched in hiding from a distance. They had a nanny when they were very little, but Clarissa's memory of the woman was disjointed. And they had had a tutor, but he was an old grey man. These girls were so - so alive. She stepped backwards.

"Outa the way sister, I'm dying here," a girl in a tight spandex dress said as she pushed Clarissa away from the stall.

"I - I'm sorry," Clarissa whispered, wondering why all of the girls were dressed in undergarments.

One girl was arranging the neckline of her dress so that her cleavage was more prominent. Clarissa frowned, and wondered if she had portaled herself in a brothel. Jonathan had found a book once in the massive Wayland library that depicted the brothels and gambling hells prevalent in London and New York during the late 19th and the turn of the 20th century. It was one of the newer volumes in the aging library. Apparently not much had changed, by the look of these girls. Although the hairstyles were considerably less derived. Clarissa edged her way towards a mirror and stared at her own disheveled copper ringlets. She wished she had some way of tying her hair up. She looked down toward her feet. Oh. The girls were wearing very strange shoes, with extreme spiked heels. She inhaled. However did they manage walking?

She felt the other girls staring at her, and she tightened her cloak around her shoulders, and hitched the bag up, before leaving the powder room.

The mob outside pulsed. A loud thrumming sound boomed at uneven increments. Clarissa tried to navigate through them, but it was difficult, they had organized themselves in such a tightly knit fashion, and they seemed to be jumping in time with the music. Every face that she scanned looked back at her in uncertainty.

She approached a large oak bar, and slipped onto a stool. At least this area was slightly less populated. She scanned the crowd, searching for woman who might be her mother.

"Are you lost?" a voice echoed from beside her.

"Huh?"

A short boy with unruly blond curls said to her. "You look lost."

"No. Well, yes, but it doesn't matter. I'm looking for someone. She is here, or was here, I think."

"What does she look like? Maybe I can help you find her."

Clarissa looked more closely at the boy. It was a sweet offer. "She looks like me - but older."

"Sister?" The boy asked.

"No," Clarissa hesitated.

"My name's Simon, by the way," the boy said holding out a hand to her.

"Thank you Simon," Clarissa said, shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"How about you go that way," Simon pointed in one direction. "And I'll go that way, and we'll meet up at the bar at the other side of the club." Simon pointed at a bar that was a twin to the one where they were sitting at the far end of the room. "And I'll ask around a little. I know people here."

"I'm sure you do."

Clarissa took a deep breath and forced her way through the crowd again, seeking out every face with the hope that one of them would be the woman, but none were.

As she closed in on the bar, a hand touched her shoulder. Twirling around, she faced a tall golden haired boy, whose shiny amber eyes gazed at her with a hint of amusement.

"Want to help me catch a demon?" He asked.

**Author's Note:** Please, please, please help me out and try my free ebook on Amazon or Barnes and Noble. It's called Anais of Brightshire.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Demon Portals**

Delicate runes traced the boy's hands and muscled forearms. He was wearing a tight black tee shirt and faded blue jeans. He was too beautiful for words. Clarissa felt her mouth go dry and she stepped backwards, trying to get some space so she could breathe.

"Why would you ask me that? You don't know me," she sputtered.

He stepped towards her. His gait was longer than hers, and he moved until his face was mere inches from hers. She could feel his breath tickling her face. He shrugged. "I know you're a shadowhunter - and I could use some assistance - you're obligated to help me."

"I'm not obliged to do anything," Clarissa countered. "And how do you know I'm a shadowhunter."

He took her hand in his, and touched the carefully drawn rune. "I don't recognize the rune, but then again Hodge always said I never pay close enough attention when he's lecturing. But I know what it is, sweetheart. And really, aren't I just making your day, a handsome guy like me approaching you out of the blue. You should be thrilled."

The electric current that was passing through her veins curdled. "You're not short of self esteem."

"Why should I be?"

"Look, I don't have a lot of experience fighting," Clarissa admitted. No experience. Not one drop.

"A sheltered girl. I'm not really surprised. With the Clave divided, most of the old families are in hiding."

Clarissa nodded - glad she didn't have to explain.

"But you must have had some training?" He asked.

Her father had trained Jonathan and her on technique, but she had never put any of that into practice. "Well yes. But, I've never actually fought anything. So, you understand you'd be better off with someone else. Someone more experienced."

His lips contorted in a pained expression. "There's no one else. And we um don't really have a choice."

"What do you mean?"

"This area must have a pretty weak barrier layer. There's a portal forming in the center of the room. If you look close you can see the shimmer. There are minions guarding the entrance and exit of the Pandemonium Club, and they are preventing people from leaving. My guess is they are holding the room, so that when the demon or demons cross over, they'll have a waiting meal."

"You can't be serious," Clarissa squinted at the center of the room. "Oh god, I see it."

"Do you have a Seraph Blade with you?"

She shook her head. She didn't have a blade or a stele or anything.

He sighed and pulled a blade out of a holster strapped to his torso. "Take one of mine. You'll need it."

As she hid the glowing blade in her bag, a voice interrupted them.

"Hey, Clarissa?"

She and the golden haired shadowhunter boy turned around.

Simon was standing next to her, an erstwhile grin lighting his face. "Um, one of the bartenders saw the woman you were looking for about an hour ago."

Clarissa's eyes widened. She had forgotten all about the woman claiming to be her mother. "And?"

"And he said she used the club's phone to call some guy, and the guy showed up almost immediately. He said the guy was dressed pretty strangely in like some weird cape. But, anyway, they left together."

Simon handed her a slip of paper. "I got the bartender to check the recent calls on the club's phone, and that's the guys phone number."

Clarissa fingered the slip of paper, before tucking it into her bag. "Thanks, I really appreciate your help."

"So, um. Do you think maybe you'd like to dance or something?" As Simon asked the question, a nervous strain entered his voice.

Clarissa bit her lip. "Oh, that's sweet." No one had ever asked her to dance before. Her tutor had forced Clarissa and Jonathan to learn a few dances, but Jonathan hated every moment of it. She looked at the throng of people, bumping and thrusting. What they were doing looked nothing like the box-step or the fox-trot or any dance she was familiar with, the music was also completely unorganized. She couldn't imagine arranging her feet to match the beat.

"I'm afraid, the lady is otherwise engaged," the golden haired shadowhunter boy interrupted.

"Oh, yeah, I see. Sorry. Maybe another time," Simon acknowledged the other boy, but his eyes didn't leave Clarissa's face.

She smiled at Simon - he had been so kind. "Certainly another time." She hoped she wouldn't be too disappointing of a partner if they ever did have the opportunity. She touched his arm lightly, and then he disappeared back into the thrumming crowd.

The golden haired shadowhunter leaned in and whispered in her ear. "We're running out of time. We need to kill the minions first, best if we do it at the same time. We don't need them to be warned. I'll take the ones at the west doors and you take the ones at the east doors."

"After we kill them, we'll need to get everyone out," she whispered back. "I wonder if there is a way to set off an alarm."

"Good idea. I'll trigger the fire alarm after we've taken down the minions. It's go time. See you soon, sweetheart."

As Clarissa turned towards the doors on the eastern front of the club, she rolled her eyes at the boy's arrogance - he reminded her a bit of her brother in that way, although there seemed to only be levity beneath the boy's cavalier words, no harshness. Each step got harder as she closed in on the doors. A small crowd had built up at the doors, as the club patrons had realized that they were no longer were allowed to leave.

"You can't keep us in here!" One boy shouted.

"C'mon, man. Let us out!" Another boy shouted.

Two silent bulldog shaped men guarded the doors in silence. Thick wooden bars held the doors in place. With a twist in her gut, Clarissa realized that they were not really men. They were some sort of lesser demons thinly disguised as men.

Clarissa frowned. There was no way to be discreet. She grabbed the hilt of the seraph blade within her bag, but didn't pull it out. She didn't want its glow to give away her intentions. She forced her way through the angry group of club patrons. Quick and dirty. Don't give them any warning. They would be distracted by the shouting, and angry gestures. Use your openings.

As she moved to the front of the angry mob, she walked directly up to the larger of the two minions. She stood in front of him at an angle so that the second minion couldn't see what she was doing. They were both oddly still, as if they were expending so much energy just staying in human form that they couldn't function properly. She pulled the Seraph Blade out of her bag and stabbed him quickly in the heart. She twirled around and stabbed the second minion in the heart. They both sank to the ground in unison. She was surprised at how easy it was, she supposed she should be grateful for the endless training her father had forced her to endure. She had managed to act without hesitation.

"Did you kill them?" A voice shrieked from the crowd.

She felt hands grab her from behind. "I'm calling the cops," a man said. "Hold her..."

So perhaps she should have found a way to be more discreet, she thought as she tried to fight her way out of the tight grasp.

A loud blaring shriek cut through the sounds of the growing mob around her, and shouts of 'Fire' erupted from the center of the room.

Whoever was holding her, dropped his arms, and Clarissa just managed to work her way to a wall and press her body against it, as the room became a flood of bodies ramming their way towards the doors. The doors seemed a terrible bottleneck, but the crowd found a way to work their way out. Clarissa held her breath, waiting for the room to empty, knowing that what she would face next would be worse.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Raveners**

Once the room emptied, Clarissa moved toward the shimmering sphere in the center of the floor. The other shadowhunter was standing there, a broad grin on his face.

"You did it!" He said. "I knew you could."

Clarissa eyed at him carefully. "You've dragged me into this battle, and I don't even know your name," she remarked in an even tone.

"Jace. I'm Jace Herondale."

"Stephen and Celine's son?"

He nodded. "They died when I was a baby. My grandmother is the only family I have left. You must be a better student of the family trees than I am. And you?"

"Clarissa Wayland. I'm Michael Wayland's daughter."

His lips twitched. "I didn't think Michael Wayland had a daughter. But, to be fair, I'm lousy at memorizing that sort of thing."

"Apparently."

"Hey! Be nice."

Clarissa's heartbeat turned up a notch, as the glimmer grew stronger. "We're wasting time. Do you think we ought to exchange protective runes? We can't have much time."

"Aren't you full of initiative."

"I'm liking you less and less the more you talk."

"I'll strive to muteness."

"Just give me your stele," she said rolling her eyes.

"No seraph blade and no stele. You come unprepared."

She put her finger on his lips, surprised by how soft they were. "Work on being mute."

He smiled through her fingers. "Your wish is my command," he mumbled.

She took his stele as soon as he pulled it out of a sheath hidden along his left calf beneath his jeans.

She quickly sketched out a rune that would bolster his strength and another that would shield him a little. But, as she was drawing the second one on his forearm, the shimmering started to turn to inky blackness, and a reptilian demon emerged.

Its slick forked black tongue flicked out of its thick lips dripping green slime. Clarissa stepped backwards, feeling all of her confidence drain out of her. She watched Jace, his seraph blade gripped tightly in his right hand, jump forward and dance around the floor, gracefully avoiding the demon's tongue, until he had his opening. He slashed at the demon, hitting it perfectly in the patch of eyes in the center of its dome shaped head. It fell, and oozed green fluid out of the wound.

"Sweet," Jace whooped, before looking back at Clarissa, who was visibly shaking.

He bit his lip as he gazed at her. "There's going to be more raveners. They're never alone. I'll need your help. Don't lose it on me, sweetheart."

The water that had been running through her veins hardened to ice, and her gaze twisted to the ground. She was in trouble. She wasn't going to be able to do this. She wasn't going to be able to fight for real.

He took her by the shoulders. "I need you," he said, his voice turning soft, his face uncomfortably close to hers.

The ice thawed, and she could move again. She wasn't helpless. She couldn't be. He needed her. No one had ever needed her.

Two noses poked out of the inky blackness, and Jace turned toward the twin raveners, his seraph blade - now sticky with green ooze - back in his hand.

Clarissa looked down at the stele in her hand. "Can you take both of them? Or just hold them off for a bit. I have an idea."

"You got it."

As Jace held the two demons at bay, Clarissa closed her eyes and begged the muse of inspiration to give her a rune to close the portal. She had never been in such dire need, and she hoped her need would force the ideas to flow faster. This was it - now or never. A picture started form in her mind, similar to the one she had used to open the portal that had let her travel to this strange place, except three rings encircled the rune, with the thickness of the rings increasing as they moved further from the center. She drew four arrows around the rings, with each arrow pointing toward the center of the ring. After she got the last arrow right, she looked up. Was the portal shrinking? She couldn't tell. She put the stele back in her bag and took up Jace's spare seraph blade.

Jace had taken down a second ravener, but the third had him cornered. He was holding a wound on his arm. Did it bite him?

She jumped behind the demon and struck it in the eyes, as she had seen Jace do to the first one. It slumped over. She turned her gaze back to the portal, three noses were sticking out.

"I don't feel so good," Jace whispered. "It bit me."

She turned back to him. He was staggering. If the portal didn't close, she wouldn't be able to take three of those things on her own. Perhaps they could run? But Jace didn't look like he was going anywhere without help.

"I'll try to take them," she said, readying the seraph blade in her hand.

Before the demons could emerge the portal quickly shrank to a pinprick and then disappeared.

"How did you do that?" Jace asked, his voice scratchy.

"It's not important. Here, let me help you." Clarissa put her arm around Jace's waist and let him hold onto her. "We should probably get out of here."

He nodded, leaning heavily against her. "Can you help me get home? Maybe Hodge will know what to do?"


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Hodge**

In the dim light of a lamppost, Clarissa supported Jace's stiff form after pulling him out of the cab.

"You sure your friend's okay?" The cabbie asked.

Clarissa's lip trembled in uncertainty. "I think he'll be okay."

"That'll be fifteen dollars."

Clarissa froze. She knew dollars were a unit of currency, but she certainly didn't have any. She wondered if he would take a piece of jewelry in lieu of money.

"I don't..."

"You don't have any money. Is that what you're trying to say girlie?"

"Wait a minute," Jace rasped, and managed extract a thin leather wallet out of pocket. He handed the cabbie a rumpled bill.

The cabbie snatched the bill, and frowned. "You sure you don't need to go to a hospital, kid? I'll take you there for free. On the house."

"Certain," he managed to say. "C'mon Clarissa, let's go," he said leaning heavily against her.

"Sorry," Clarissa whispered in his ear.

"You have no money. Curious," he whispered back. "When I feel better, I am going to insist you tell me your story."

"So where exactly are we going?" She asked. "This area doesn't exactly look safe."

"Considering what we were just up against, you can't possibly be afraid of the wrong side of town."

"Just tell me where to take you."

"Down the alley."

No one stopped them as they walked down the dimly lit space between two boarded up buildings, but Clarissa could feel unseen eyes on them.

"This is it," Jace whispered.

"Umm, what do you mean?"

"You need to move the manhole cover. It's not as heavy as it looks, but even so I don't think I can manage it."

Clarissa looked down and saw a wide round metal plate installed in the street and touched it with her toe. "You can't possibly be serious."

"It's not as bad as it looks."

"Shouldn't there be an institute here? I thought every major city had one."

"Burned to the ground. Hodge will tell you all about it. Now please, Clarissa. I may die any moment. You don't want that on your conscience, do you?"

Clarissa rolled her eyes. "I'd get over it." She helped him over to the brick wall, where he rested, while she pushed the manhole cover. The opening in the ground revealed a ladder. Clarissa sighed. "How am I supposed to get you down the ladder?"

"Ingenuity?" He suggested.

"You're terribly difficult." She walked over to where Jace was leaning against the wall and sagged next to him.

He offered a pained grin.

A man emerged from the hole in the ground. He was a thin man with grey-streaked hair and a long beaky nose dressed in a neat, grey, tweed suit.

"Jonathan Herrondale, you are in serious trouble young man. You were not supposed to leave."

Clarissa eyed Jace, a smirk forming on the corners of her mouth.

"Who's this?" Hodge stammered the question, and turned to face Clarissa. As he turned, Clarissa noticed a thick scar running up the right side of his face.

"Can we save the introductions, for a bit? Jace was bitten by a ravener demon in a nightclub. Is there something you can do?"

"Of course there's something I can do. Stupid boy," he said, taking Jace firmly by the arm and leading him down the ladder steps. Clarissa followed, careful of her skirts.

Hodge deposited Jace in a small bed, in a sparsely furnished room. In the dim lamplight of the room, Jace's pasty skin glowed almost blue. Clarissa held one of his hands, which was clammy with cold sweat.

"He's not going to die," Hodge promised as he entered the room.

Clarissa stood up and let Hodge replace her on the edge of the bed. He fed Jace a few spoonfuls of a soup like liquid. He placed the bowl on a small end table and then covered the wound on Jace's arm with a thick blue paste, before looking at the rune Clarissa had drawn on Jace's forearm. "This iratze is very well done. I think it's likely he would have been in real trouble without it. You drew it?"

Clarissa nodded. "Yes."

"You must have had excellent training."

"Only the best," Clarissa reflected, using her father's turn of phrase without thinking.

Hodge narrowed his eyes at her. "We have much to discuss."

Jace raised his eye lids a bit. "In the morning. I'd like to sleep now. And I don't want to be left out of the conversation."

Hodge nodded and stood. "I apologize the accommodations. We'll arrange a room for you if you are going to stay longer than tonight, but for now the cot in Jace's room will have to do. Normally I wouldn't let you two share a room, but I find it unlikely that you'll get into any trouble given Jace's current state. There's a bathroom attached to the room. Make yourself at home."

Hodge left the room, and Clarissa flopped down onto the small cot beside the bed. "Do you have something I could wear?"

"Mmm, check the dresser. You can wear anything. You know, you don't have to sleep alone on that cot," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Probably a bad idea," Clarissa murmured as she sorted through Jace's drawers. She extracted a large green tee shirt of worn cotton. "This one feels rather comfortable."

Clarissa looked back at him to get his approval, but his eyelids had fallen closed and he was snoring gently. He looked so sweet sleeping, with all of the arrogance drained out of his expression. She was almost tempted to join him and fall asleep in his arms. But, her brother always looked kind when he was sleeping too. However, whenever he woke up he was cruel again. She decided that it wouldn't be right to trust the way Jace looked when he was sleeping. Her lips twitched.

After changing into the tee shirt and folding up her clothes, she curled up in the cot and fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **So I have three stories on fanfiction now, which I am actively updating. I just wanted to let you know that 'A Dance with Demons' has recently taken the lead as my story with the most visitors/readers with slightly over 220 readers for the 6th chapter. Yay!

**Chapter 7: Frenemies**

Clarissa opened her eyes slowly. Her whole body ached. She lengthened her legs and arms, trying to stretch out the soreness and as she did she detangled herself from a warm body. She jerked up. Another body? Who? There was no light. Just pitch darkness. As she jumped up, she heard a click and a dim light switched on illuminating a boy with golden hair, and a wily smirk. She remembered him. His name was Jace. The events of the previous day flooded back. She had taken sanctuary with Jace and his tutor, Hodge. But why was she in his bed?

Jace shrugged before answering her unspoken question. "You started shivering in the middle of the night and climbed into bed with me. I was hardly going to refuse a damsel in distress."

She narrowed her eyes, getting ready to refute his claim, but sighing she realized he was likely telling the truth. She had a penchant for nighttime wandering. Three years ago, she had woken up on the floor of her brother's room. Of course, he had been cruel to her about it, angry that in her sleep she had somehow managed to unlock his door. She had managed it with a rune of course. It was the first sign of her inherent skill. Her father had been very pleased when Jonathan had angrily shown him her handiwork. Her father's pleasure had increased her brother's outrage for a while, but it soon dissipated when her father explained that it was proof of Clarissa's demon blood, that until that demonstration he was worried that she was just another shadow hunter, unchanged by his experiments. She was considerably less pleased by this deduction in logic, uncertain whether being the result of a dark experiment was really such a good thing, as Jonathan and her father seemed to think.

"You're lost in thought," Jace said, interrupting Clarissa's internal monologue.

"Yes, I - I'm sorry about getting into bed with you. Sometimes, my subconscious takes over when I'm sleeping."

"No need to apologize. I really didn't mind."

"How do you feel?"

He peered at the wound on his arm, and touched it gently with his fingers. "I feel fine. Totally cured. I think Hodge mentioned that your healing rune was particularly effective. I suppose I should find a way of thanking you," he said with a comic leer.

She rolled her eyes, and sank on the bed next to him. "Don't get your hopes up. I'm more trouble than I look."

"About that. I have questions," he said softly.

"So do I," she responded.

"Ah, but house rules dictate I get to ask first."

"Shouldn't we wait for your keeper, before I start revealing all of my secrets."

"I'd rather it was just me, but Hodge would be put out."

"Should we go find him then?"

"As you wish." With a stroke, Jace removed his tee shirt Clarissa's eyes went wide, and she tried to divert her gaze, but it was impossible to stop looking. The scars that danced over the surface of the ropy muscles of his neck and chest seemed to spell a story of a life of discord and pain.

"You like what you see?" He asked with an eyebrow raised, clearly amused by the idea.

Flustered, she turned around, glad that the slow beat of red that was burning her cheeks was hidden from his view.

"Maybe I should change back into my clothes too," she stammered, grabbing her bag and fleeing into the bathroom.

She closed the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily. It was funny; his room had been immaculate, with almost no telltale giveaways that a teenage boy inhabited the space. But the bathroom was another matter. Shaving gel and razors abounded, along with towels thrown haphazardly over the room. He had a disturbingly large collection of men's cologne, a sign of vanity that shouldn't have surprised her.

Her eyes drifted to a small shower built into the wall and draped with navy blue curtains. She could use a shower. She shed Jace's tee shirt and stepped into the narrow space, letting the cool stream of water flood over her body, removing all traces of blood and death that seemed unfortunate accompaniments to the shadow hunter lifestyle. The soap that Jace kept smelled like peppermint, and she smiled as she lathered it over herself. It was a fresh clean scent. She stepped out and dried herself off with one of his towels, while using another to dry her hair.

A knock broke the silence.

"I think I have some clothes that might fit you," Jace said through the door.

She opened it, and he handed her a vacuum-sealed plastic bag. "It was my mother's dress. I kept a few of her things. I thought it would help me remember her."

She tore open the plastic and pulled out a simple blue dress with lines of lace around the collar and the knee-length hem. She slipped it on, and wished there was a full-length mirror in the bathroom. It was impossible to say if it looked okay, but it was certainly comfortable as it hung loose around her figure, only snug against her breasts.

She ran a comb through her hair and stepped back into Jace's room.

"You look good," he said simply.

"Thank you. It's a pretty dress."

He nodded. "Well I think we've procrastinated long enough. Time to face Hodge. I can hear him pacing. The only reason he hasn't barged in with questions is his desire to respect your feminine sensibilities."

Clarissa laughed. "I don't think I have those."

"Well, let's keep that a secret." He took her gently by the arm and steered her into a small kitchen area. As they walked, Clarissa looked around for windows. She was feeling little tingles of claustrophobia. But, of course, there would be no windows; they were underground, after all. She was so used to the floor length windows that abounded in the Wayland manor house. Being without the constant site of the Wayland grounds made her feel uncomfortable.

Hodge was indeed pacing, as Jace had suggested. Clarissa almost laughed at the accuracy of Jace's prediction, but managed to hold herself in check.

Hodge indicated that Clarissa and Jace sit. There were only two chairs, so as they sat he maintained his pace.

"I for one am hungry. I'm thinking bacon and eggs and waffles and pancakes," Jace said.

"I'll make some toast and tea," Hodge mumbled.

"But I'm starving. I'm a growing boy," Jace moaned.

"Try to remember that we're on a shoestring budget."

Clarissa watched them as they bantered and she felt a sudden surge of sadness pricking at her. Even though her brother and father were awful, they were her only family. And now her father was dead, and her brother was - well - in a rage.

Hodge made some tea and toast and pulled in another chair from an adjacent room.

"So, Clarissa, I think you should tell us what you doing in New York. Are your parents here too? They must be worried."

"I'm here alone," she murmured as she spread some apple butter on the toast. Even though it wasn't the giant breakfast that Jace had wanted, she was more than satisfied.

Hodge was clearly needed more information. "Who are your parents?"

"My father's Michael Wayland." That was the truth as she knew it. She had no intention of voicing her recent concerns over her true identity.

Hodge frowned. "Michael Wayland didn't have a daughter. I'll check the library. We have a book that should clarify. I'll be right back."

The chair scraped the floor as Hodge stood. Clarissa winced at the harsh sound.

"I knew it." Jace said with a smile. "I knew Michael Wayland didn't have a daughter."

Hodge returned with a thick leather bound text that he placed on the small kitchen table after removing their empty plates. He opened it to a page that revealed the Wayland family tree in scrawling black ink. The pages were formed of aged vellum, and Clarrisa touched the smooth page at the location of the inscription of her father's name. Underneath his name were the words deceased Jan. 3rd 1992. There was one box underneath his name, which read Jonathan Christopher Wayland, deceased July. 3rd 1992, there were no other boxes. She touched the space where her name should have been. "Maybe my birth wasn't recorded," she whispered. "I was born after the war started. The book must be wrong. My father raised me. Whoever recorded the information was mistaken."

"That's not how it works," Hodge said. "The book itself records the family trees, it's not subject to human error. It knows the shadow hunter lines. The book is never wrong."

Hodge flipped through the pages, looking for the birth of a girl who would be fifteen this year. His hand shook when he finally landed on a page. Seraphina Clarissa Morgenstern, born August 10th 1993. They all stared at the words, which lay heavy on the page.

"You're Valentine's daughter," Hodge said. "Of course."

"No," Jace replied, his eyes wide in horror.

She kept her lips tightly shut. That's what the woman claimed. She had said she was Valentine's wife. It was all true. She tried to stop the sharp stinging in her eyes from transforming into tears.

"And if you're here. Than that means Valentine has been hiding at the Wayland Manor all this time." Hodge's lips curled in awful grin. "And now I have what he wants. He'll have to take me back."

"What are you saying?" Jace gasped.

Hodge slammed his fist against the side of Jace's head, knocking the boy to the floor.

"Jace!" she screamed. Instead of a response, as the words left her mouth, there was pain and then darkness.

She woke up in the kitchen, feeling that her hands and ankles were firmly tied to the same wooden chair. Jace was next to her, tied up and unconscious. His head lolled to one side awkwardly.

She struggled trying to get out of the binds. They had to escape, and it had to be soon. If Hodge knew a way to enter the Wayland Estate, he wouldn't fine her father eagerly waiting to join forces with him, he would find her father's corpse, and her raging brother. And if Hodge knew a way in, he likely also knew a way out, which meant Jonathan Christopher would be coming for them.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," she cried to Jace's still form.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Thank you **Midnight-Rose4563, missmatchedxoxo1723, BookLoverTillTheEndXxXx, thewhiphand5, Onesmartcookie78 for the reviews on the last chapter. I'm bringing in one of our beloved characters. His intro is at the end of this chapter.

**Chapter 8: Escape**

Clarissa bit her lip, tears starting to well in the corners of her eyes. She would have wiped away the tears, but her hands were still bound against the back of the chair.

"Jace," she cried again. He didn't answer. He was so close, but she couldn't touch him. She could see the shape of the stele outlined in a pocket that rode the length of his calf - if she could just get hold of it somehow. She rocked the chair back and forth edging herself closer and closer to Jace's still form. The chair rocked and rocked and then tipped, and she fell on top of him. Although still bound, her head now sat precariously in his lap and the chair was tilted at an odd angle.

Jace shook his head and looked down at her. "I could get used to waking up this way."

"Don't be obnoxious, clearly we are in something of a predicament. Can you get us out?"

"Hmm, given that all you managed was to throw yourself on top of me, I'm sure I can't make the situation worse."

She glared at him.

He strained his arms against the cords, his muscles tightening, and his face turning a nasty shade of scarlet.

"So your plan is brute force is it?"

He groaned. "You're not helping."

She tightened her abdominal muscles and lurched herself off of Jace's lap and onto the floor. Her side slammed down hard. That would leave a bruise.

"Are you okay?" Jace asked.

"Peachy," she groaned. Her mouth was conveniently close to the pocket that held Jace's stele. She inched her way toward it, bit off the button with her teeth and locking her jaw on the handle. She managed to pull it free. It clattered to the floor.

"Way to go!" Jace said. "Now what are you going to do with it?"

"I take it you've given up?"

"No," he said. "I never give up. I'm just taking a quick break." He went back to straining against the cords.

Clare braced herself and wiggled her body, still bound to the chair, in a small circle, until she imagined her hands were close to the stele. The only problem was that she couldn't see it. She flailed her fingers around.

"Keep your hands still," Jace said. "I think I can put the stele into your hand with my foot. I have a little leverage."

She kept her hands still, until the sold weight of the hilt dropped into her hand. She twisted the stele until the blade rested against the taught cord binding her hands and she tugged it back and forth.

"Hey, I thought you were going to pull off a rune," Jace commented.

"That would be impossible from this angle. I'm not that good," she groaned.

"I'll lower my expectations."

The cord snapped and she used the stele to rip the cords tying her feet, before setting Jace free.

"My hero," Jace said. "Should I give you a kiss to demonstrate my gratitude?"

"That's unnecessary, but I appreciate the offer," she retorted.

His lips turned down in mock dejection.

She touched her cheek. "Just a peck."

He nodded and dutifully bowed and kissed her.

She felt a twinge of interest stir. She would have to be careful with him. He was too pretty, and too charming. A part of her wanted to throw her arms around him and well ... that would have to wait.

"We have to get out of here, before Hodge comes back," Clarissa said.

"I can't believe he turned on me like that. I trusted him. My family trusted him." Jace finally turned serious, hurt and confusion coloring his expression. "Do you think Valentine will come after us?"

Clarissa shook her head; her read curls, still wild, dancing from side to side. "Valentine is dead. Hodge didn't let me get that far."

Jace's eyes widened. "That's fantastic! If Valentine is dead then the resistance has lost their leader, and without their leader they're nothing, or at least that's what my grandmother always says. The clave can take back Idris; they can take back the institutes. The war will be over. We have to tell my grandmother."

"It's not that simple. My brother killed him, killed our father, the man you think is Valentine. I think my brother will try to take his place."

"He can't be as bad as Valentine."

"He's worse. My father at least had a twisted set of principles. My brother doesn't understand the concept."

"Nevertheless, we have to get word to the council."

"How?"

"Oh, umm, that's a good question. I know Hodge had a way to contact the council, but, umm, he never shared it with me."

"Okay, well why don't I grab my bag and you gather a few things. We don't have time for you to figure it out. I want to get out of here as soon as we can. We can't be here if my brother shows up."

Clarissa sat on Jace's bed grasping her bag as Jace ran around the room trying to decide what he needed. She was growing impatient, and she started to tap her foot, but it didn't seem to gain her any advantage in hurrying Jace along. She looked inside her bag, and noticed the stray scrap of paper. There were two sets of numbers on it. The first set just had a dash to the right that said 'woman from the bar', and the second set of numbers had a name next to it, 'Simon'. Simon must be the name of the boy who helped her in the dance club.

"Jace, do you have a telephone?"

"Yep, in the kitchen."

Clarissa had never used a phone before, but she had seen pictures of them in a book in the Wayland library. She had expected a rotary dial, and an ornate earpiece. The telephone she found looked very different, it was formed of a hard plastic and the dial was just numbers, there was no wheel to turn. She tried pressing a number and in response the telephone issued a dull tone. Getting the idea, she then pressed the rest of the numbers in sequence corresponding to the first set of numbers the boy had inscribed for her.

"Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn speaking!" A voice chirped. "Make it snappy, I have a party to plan."

**Author's Note: **I just published my second ebook on Amazon and Smashwords. The first is titled 'Anais of Brightshire' and the second is titled 'Anais of the Stolen Road'. Check them out if you are looking for something to read. Thanks!


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Simon to the Rescue**

Clarissa slammed down the phone. Warlocks were the enemy. Weren't they? Her father had always been adamant that all downworlders were inherently evil, with warlocks being the worst of the lot. Why would her mother be calling a warlock?

She called Simon's phone number. Perhaps he could offer them refuge, at least for the near term. Mundane's were weak, but at least they weren't downworlders.

"This is way to early, Eric," a groggy voice murmured. "I'm going back to sleep."

"Wait, wait," Clarissa said. "I'm not Eric."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the voice cleared up. "Who are you?" Simon asked, wondering why a girl was calling him. There were girls who liked him, it was a hazard of being a member of rather popular - well locally popular - band, but he couldn't imagine why one would call him before nine on a Saturday.

"Um, we met last night, at the Pandemonium Club. My name's Clarissa."

A vision of the pretty red headed girl surfaced in Simon's mind. There was something about her, something more than just an elfish beauty. It was as if he was supposed to know her, as if she was an integral part of his life that had somehow gotten lost. "Oh, yeah, I do remember you. That was weird with the fire alarm, huh? I guess you made it out okay."

"Yes I made it out, but I'm having a bit of a problem, and I don't really know anyone in New York," she said.

"Oh. You need help?" His eyebrows shot up. A surge of hope coursed through him. He had been afraid he would never see the girl again.

"Yes, I ... it's difficult to explain. And I realized I'm asking too much of someone I just met. You see, the boy you saw me with at the club, he and I need someplace to hide for a while. Is that something you could help us with?"

Simon shut his eyes in pain. "Is he your boyfriend?" God, Simon hadn't meant to ask that. He could hear the pathetic wheedling in his voice and he would have given anything to take back the words. But the words were out, and now they demanded an answer.

"My boyfriend? No. No, I ... this is going to sound strange, but ... I'm not allowed to date. And to be fair, Jace isn't my type, he's much too full of his own self-importance."

"Huh. Um okay. So you need a place to hide? Family problems?"

"Yes," Clarissa paused, an image of her brother looming in her mind. "Family problems."

"And your friend is having family problems too?"

"Yes. Sort of the same family problems."

"Are you related?"

"Probably." Clarissa paused. "That sounds weird doesn't it?"

Maybe they were distant cousins, or belonged to the same cult, Simon thought. It didn't sound like she wanted to reveal anything. Maybe it was too soon to be probing into her problems. Normally this sort of strangeness would cause him to bolt from the conversation. He wasn't the sort of guy who chased drama, but he felt drawn to this girl.

"My mom's out of town, she's visiting my sister. You could hang out at my house. She's out of town for a week. Why don't I pick you up? I've got a friend's van."

"That sounds good. Could you pick us up as soon as possible?" Clarissa asked.

"Yeah. I can leave in a few minutes. Where are you?"

Clarissa gave him the address that Jace had gave the cab driver the night before.

"Thanks," she said.

"No problem," he said, before handing up.

Clarissa walked back to Jace's room and groaned. Jace's neat room had exploded with what must have been Jace's entire wardrobe. An empty bag was on his bed and he was pacing the room, his too beautiful lips pressed in a frown. "How am I supposed to pick?"

"Are you serious?

"Look, I'm a very attractive guy. It's my duty to dress well."

She grabbed to pairs of jeans off the bed and two tee shirts and shoved them in the bag. "There, you've picked."

"Hey," he said.

She glared at him.

"Okay, okay, I get it."

"Did you pack a few seraph blades and steles?"

He nodded. "The bag has a secret compartment. You know, we could just stay and wait for Hodge and your brother. I bet I could take him if he tried to fight me."

"He's crazy, Jace. Really crazy. Insanity is an advantage."

"Okay, okay. Where will we go?"

"I called that boy Simon, we met last night. He said we could stay at his house. I figure we stay there until we find a way to contact the council."

"We just met him. Don't you think that's a bit early to be imposing on him?"

"I just met you last night. And I've been imposing on you."

"But, I'm a Shadowhunter. He's a mundane," Jace argued as he hoisted the duffel bag onto his broad well-muscled shoulder.

"I don't see another option. And anyway, he seemed nice enough." Clarissa paused. Simon had seemed more than nice. She had felt an odd heavy sense of familiarity in his presence. She felt she could trust him, even though there was no reason why she should feel that way.

Jace smirked. "Yeah, I'm sure he seemed really nice. He was probably thinking all sorts of questionable thoughts about you."

"Well, look at it this way: you can protect me if he gets overly familiar. How can I be in danger if you've got my back?"

He nodded, and threw his free arm around my shoulder. "I can't argue with that logic. I'll definitely endeavor to keep you safe. He might be useful in another way too. I met another Shadowhunter kid in hiding about a year ago when Hodge and I were in Prague - Alec Lightwood. He said if I ever needed help I should email him, he gave me what he called an email address. I have no idea what to do with it, but he implied the mundanes knew all about email. Maybe your friend Simon can help me contact Alec."

"That sounds reasonable. Let's go," she said.

They reached the intersection she had given Simon just in time to hear the heavy squeal of wheels coming from a large, beat-up van screeching to a halt. The side door of the van slid open from the inside.

"Hop in," a voice called to them.


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **As always, thank you guys for reading and reviewing. Special thanks to Onesmartcookie78! I went back to the previous chapters and fixed the mistakes you pointed out. If you ever feel like offering your services as a beta, send me a PM. I would take you up on it in a heartbeat.

**Chapter 10: Technology to the Rescue **

Simon looked over his shoulder at Jace and Clarissa. He was sitting in his desk chair, and they were sitting on his bed. Jace seemed impatient; he kept tapping his foot on the ground and twisting around as if he needed to be intimately familiar with every nook of the room.

Simon booted up his computer. He had tried sending an email to the address Jace had provided from his phone, but it hadn't gone through. He had a few ideas, but he tended to think it awkward to really dig for information on his phone.

Clarissa tilted her head. "I didn't notice it in the club last night, but your hair is more than one color. Why is that?"

Simon reddened. "Oh, yeah. Um, all of the guys in my band, um, we bleached our hair. It was a mistake. I'm letting it grow out. I really wish someone had talked me out of it."

"Probably a good idea to grow it out. You can't pull it off," Jace added, fingering his own golden curls.

"Thanks," Simon replied, acid tingeing his voice.

As Simon turned back to his computer, Clarissa stood and paced the room. Simon started with a simple Google search of the email address 'AlecLight '. He couldn't find the address, but he did find a website called .com. The first page that popped up showed one question.

'**Who was the first Shadowhunter?'**

"Uh, who was the first Shadowhunter?"

Jace and Clarissa shot each other simultaneous looks of concern.

"Jonathan Shadowhunter," Clarissa answered. She moved over to Simon's side so that she could see the screen. She hadn't imagined this line of investigation would lead anywhere. Simon shrugged and typed in the answer. A larger box illuminated the screen. This box asked two questions, and held places for two answers. The first question read:

'**When were the accords signed?'**

The second question read:

'**What is the name of the city of glass?'**

Accords sounded religious. Simon figured these questions must have something to do with Jace and Clarissa's cult.

"Is the City of Glass somewhere in Utah?" Simon suggested.

Jace rolled his eyes. He had joined Clarissa and was also peering at the computer screen. "City of Glass is Alicante. And, uh, the accords were signed in 1869."

"No," Clarissa said. "I think they were signed in 1868."

Jace shrugged. "It was definitely 1869. Type in 1869."

"Maybe I'm wrong," she said with a sigh. "Dates aren't my strong point."

Simon entered 1869 and Alicante into the boxes.

The screen disappeared and another popped up.

'**Not much of a Shadowhunter are you? The accords were signed in 1868.'**

"I was right!" Clarissa said.

"Fine, fine, fine. You were right," Jace admitted.

The screen dimmed and another box popped up.

'**How old are you?'**

"I'm fifteen," Clarissa said.

"Sixteen," Jace answered.

"I'll put in fifteen and a half. Split the difference," Simon said.

'**One more question. What side are you on?'**

Jace grimaced. "I guess they mean the war."

"War?" Simon asked. "Like with Iraq or Afghanistan or something?"

"He shouldn't be here," Jace groaned. "He shouldn't be involved. It's not his place."

"If it weren't for him, we'd be lost. I have no idea how to operate one of these boxes. Do you?"

Jace shook his head ruefully. "Hodge was all about books."

"So, we don't have a choice."

"What answer should I give?"

"The Clave," Jace and Clarissa answered in unison.

"Good to know we're on the same side," Jace said, his eyes on Clarissa. "I wasn't sure."

She rolled her eyes. "I'd say we are both in a delicate position. If my father really was Valentine, then the war is over. Unless, my brother manages to rally my father's followers, which I imagine he will try, especially if you're friend Hodge helps him. If you choose the Clave, you'll be forsaking Hodge. If I choose the Clave, I'm forsaking my brother. The Clave seems like the right answer, but I don't know. I don't know anything about the Clave, besides what I've read in books. How can we choose? Do we have to take a side? "

Jace frowned. "My grandmother's a member of the Clave. My parents died fighting for the Clave.

"Why don't I just write in 'The Clave', and see what happens," Simon suggested.

Clarissa and Jace nodded in agreement, although neither looked happy.

The screen turned white.

'**Welcome to the lost generation. We are the children of the Shadowhunters. The children in hiding. Those who have been told they are too young to fight. We've been shuffled from city to city, while our parents kill each other. As they fight, the world falls further into to darkness. Here we band together to take up the mantle our parents dropped. Please register, and you will be sent emails with times and locations. Be prepared. We have work to do.'**

"Since I've actually met Alec, let's register under my name," Jace said. "That might make this a bit easier.

Jace provided Simon with the information to fill out the next form, and he created an email address for himself. Apparently the email address would only allow emails too and from other addresses with the 'IntoTheShadows' domain name. Simon linked the email address to his phone, so they could get instant updates.

"So, um, this is some whacked cult, huh?" Simon asked.

"It's not a cult," Jace hissed.

Simon's phone buzzed. "Looks like the website worked." He handed the phone to Jace.

'Jace,

You took your sweet time signing up. My sister and I are in NYC too. Magnus Bane is having a party tonight with heavy downworlder attendance expected. There are rumors there may be trouble. Izzy and I are going to be present to patrol. I'm still working on nailing down the address. I will send it to you as soon as I get it. We'll show up around 10PM. It's a costume party. So make sure you dress to impress.

See you soon,

Alec'


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **Thank you to Onesmartcookie78 for acting as a Beta for this chapter!

**Chapter 11: Costume Shop **

Clarissa and Jace followed Simon into the costume shop. Multi-colored strobe lights lit an array of outfits that were shrink-wrapped in plastic and cardboard cutouts of men and women. The women in the cutouts exposed more skin than Clarissa considered decent; they all looked as if they were in some version of bras and panties. The girls at the club had been dressed in very short skirts and blouses with plunging necklines. She looked down at the dress that Jace had given her; it was so demure. How was she going to pull off fitting into to this mundane world?

"I know this place is a little cheesy," Simon said. "But, it's cheap and..."

A girl approached, interrupting Simon. "So," she greeted them between snaps of gum. "What are you looking for?" Her nametag read 'Hello, my name's Cindi'.

"Three costumes," Simon answered.

"No. Two costumes. You're not going," Jace said.

"I'm the one with the phone, your lifeline to this party. It's all of us or none of us," Simon countered. He wasn't sure why he was doing this, why he wanted to be a part of their lives, especially since Jace seemed bent on excluding him. It must be the girl; he felt so connected to her. Was it love at first sight? He wasn't sure. She had said that she wasn't seeing Jace, but there was something between them. Did he have a chance with her? He didn't know.

A second woman glided up to Cindi and placed a hand on her shoulder. She was lovely, with iridescent skin and a lithe figure. "I think these customers are meant for me," she said, her twinkling eyes glued to Jace, as if she intended to eat him alive.

Clarissa frowned. Her stomach clenched in an angry knot. She didn't like the way the woman was eyeing Jace. She didn't like it at all.

"Follow me," the woman said, twirling around, her golden curls bouncing softly off her shoulder.

Jace shrugged, a glint in his eye suggesting he was flattered by the woman's interest. Clarissa rolled her eyes and Jace grinned at her. Simon felt left out. He could see them playing out a silent conversation that he had no part in.

The group followed the woman towards a hidden door near the back of the room, and then down a narrow set of stairs.

The woman flicked on a light switch, exposing a room filled with glass cases displaying jewel encrusted gowns, and tuxedos. Adjacent cases held iridescent masks.

Clarissa moved forward and touched a case that displayed an emerald ball gown with diamond trim.

"Uh," Simon gulped. "This is way outside my price range."

The woman giggled, her laugh sounding like a thousand bells tinkling.

"Your mundane money is of no concern. Consider the costumes of your choice to be gifts."

Jace, who had been staring at the woman in wonder, shifted his eyes. This was bad. She was doing something to him. He had to gain back control of his thoughts. He had to figure out her angle. "Why? Why would you just give us anything? Who are you?"

"You don't know me, young Shadowhunter boy? How sad. The world is truly in danger if you don't recognize me."

Clarissa turned around and assessed the woman carefully. "Are you a Fae?"

"Quite correct, little Shadowhunter girl. You're brighter than your counterpart. You haven't met one of my kind have you?"

Clarissa grimaced. She hated being referred to as a little girl. "No. But, I've read about the Fae. You're not to be trusted."

"Of course," Jace muttered. "I knew you were something."

"Um, what's a Fae? You don't mean a fairy, do you?" Simon asked.

The woman giggled girlishly. "You really shouldn't be dragging around mundanes." She spat the word mundanes like it was a disease. "It's hardly prudent."

"It's not by choice," Jace said.

"Why would you help us?" Clarissa demanded.

The woman sighed. "The queen wants word of any new Downworlders in the city. If I can provide her with a strand of your hair and perhaps a drop of your blood, she would be most grateful."

"No," Jace said. "That would be a foolish exchange."

"Would it?" she asked.

"We're not giving you our hair or our blood."

"How about a promise then?"

"What sort of promise?" Clarissa asked.

"You have to promise to visit her court before the next full moon. It might work out in your favor. The queen knows many things. She's always eager to offer a trade."

"Do you think she could help us reach the Clave?" Jace asked.

The woman shrugged. "I would think so. The queen is well connected. I imagine she could even provide you transport to Idris, if you so desired."

Clarissa and Jace stared at each other, each measuring the likely risks and rewards. Slowly, he nodded. "How do we find the queen when we're ready to meet with her?"

The woman handed Jace three brass rings engraved with twisting vines. "Put them on when you're ready. I'll find you. My name is Glory, by the way. Now, on to more pleasant tasks, we need to find you the perfect costumes."

Glory picked out two tuxedos and top hats for the boys, and then shooed them away to two booths in the back to change, and then she turned to Clarissa with a grin.

"You are such a pretty little girl," she said, touching Clarissa's hair. "With such lovely copper curls and alabaster skin. We'll have to find you a gown of just the right color."

"What about this one," Clarissa said, pointing to the emerald gown she had been drawn to when they entered the room.

"Hmm, I think you're right. Your eyes will glow in this dress." Glory removed it from the case, along with a pair of silver, low-heeled pumps. "Do you think these will work? We could get you a pair with taller heels? You could use a little more height."

Clarissa's lips twitched. "I think these are tall enough. I want to be able to walk." She carried the gown and shoes to a booth in back and slipped on the dress. The only problem was that instead of a zipper in the back there were ribbons that needed to be laced up. She stretched her hand behind her back, while eyeing herself in the mirror, and tried to lace up the ribbons, but she couldn't quite manage the task.

"Do you need help?" Glory trilled.

"Yes please," Clarissa responded.

Glory stepped inside the booth, and deftly laced up the ribbons. Clarissa turned around to face Glory. "It's a lovely dress, I can't believe it fits so perfectly."

"You make it lovely. You're a beautiful girl, we should put up your hair, I think, and perhaps apply just a touch of powder."

Clarissa sat down on a stool in the booth, and let Glory fiddle with her hair, and touch up her face.

Clarissa gasped when she looked in the mirror. "I look so different..."

"You look perfect. Now, let's go find your dates."

"They're not my dates," Clarissa said. "It's not like that."

"Mmm, I think you need to look a little closer. They're both enamored with you."

Clarissa snorted in disbelief and then followed Glory out of the booth. She hid a smile as she caught her first glimpse of Jace and Simon dressed to the nines. "You both look fantastic."

Jace took a step toward her, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shut it again, and offered her his arm. She took it, and felt a sudden surge of warmth flow through her.

Simon's phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. "We have an address," he said looking up.

"Perfect," Jace said with a smile. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait," Clarissa said, looking back at Glory. "The clothes ... should we return them to you tomorrow?"

Glory smiled. "There's no need. They'll disappear by daybreak."


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:**

Thank you to Onesmartcookie78 for another excellent beta job, and welcome to everyone who has joined in reading this story. Now on to Chapter 12, where our pulses will race and our hearts will break.

**Chapter 12: Alec and Isabelle **

Simon was surprised when the directions led them to a crumbling wreck of a mansion nestled into the obscurity of Highland Park. The moon, fat and bright over their heads, lit a gothic scene while revealing the swell of the ocean in the distance. Antique vehicles lined the streets leading up to the mansion, and Simon felt a twinge of curiosity. He had never seen so many classic cars in such concentration. With no hope of locating an easy parking spot, Simon halted in front of the mansion. "Why don't you two get out, and I'll drive around looking for a spot?"

Without a word to Simon, Jace pulled open the door and jumped out.

"Be careful," Clarissa whispered as she followed Jace out of the van. "If you change your mind, you can go home." She felt a sort of peace in Simon's presence, but it was coupled with guilt. She was bringing him into her world - her troubled, dangerous world. A large part of her hoped he would return to the safety of obliviousness.

"I'll find you in there," Simon said. He had no intention on bailing, even if it seemed like Clarissa and Jace didn't need him.

Clarissa watched as Simon pulled the van around a corner into the anonymity of deep shadows. It wasn't fair to compare Simon to Jace, but she couldn't help but consider the differences between the two boys. Simon was a sweet kid, whereas Jace had been built for war. He belonged here. They belonged here. She felt a stirring in her blood, as his eyes met hers.

They secured their masks, before walking hand in hand towards the entrance, and Clarissa wondered if the masks would be enough to hide the fact that they were Shadowhunters.

As Jace reached out towards the ornately carved lion head knocker, a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him and Clarissa behind a row of overgrown seven-foot hedges that circled the mansion.

"I was worried you wouldn't show up. It's a relief not to be going into this alone. I think it's going to worse than I first expected." A boy's voice greeted them, before he embraced Jace.

A boy and girl, each very tall and dressed like stunning twin gems in matching tight black steampunk-esque suits with silk cravats cutting their throats, greeted Clarissa and Jace. A deep red pendent, hanging below the girl's cravat, throbbed against the night.

Jace removed his mask while motioning to Clarissa to do the same.

The girl elbowed the boy in the side. "Oh yeah, of course, I forgot. You didn't meet my sister, Isabelle Lightwood. She's an exceptional fighter. You'll see."

Isabelle's eyes devoured Jace, and Clarissa shifted closer to him. She didn't want to lose him to this beautiful girl who looked more his match than she felt.

"Jace Herondale." He offered his hand to Isabelle, and then he turned to Clarissa with a broad smile. "And this is Clarissa. She's with me." He hadn't offered her surname. Clarissa wondered if he was trying to protect her, by keeping her likely relationship to Valentine Morgenstern a secret. But, considering the intimacy of the Nephilim, Alec and Isabelle wouldn't accept her on a first name basis for long.

She shook Alec and Isabelle's hands, and murmured greetings.

"How old are you?" Isabelle's eyes were narrowed as she asked the question. She was clearly the type who liked to have her i's dotted and her t's crossed.

"Fifteen," Clarissa answered.

"You're young. Maybe too young. Should we be dragging her into..."

"She's already helped me take down a club full of demons. I swear she's capable," Jace offered in quick defense of Clarissa. He inhaled sharply before continuing. "Look, we have some things to discuss about Clarissa's family. But we should wait until tomorrow when we have more time. More importantly, we need to get in contact with the Clave. We had hoped you could help us."

Alec and Isabelle looked at each other. They clearly had secrets too.

"We haven't had contact with our parents in over a year," Alec admitted.

Isabelle glared at him. "We weren't going to tell anyone."

"I hate all of these secrets, Izzy. We can't just pretend that everything's okay. I've wanted to tell the other Shadowhunter kids for a long time."

"I think you just want to impress your new friend."

He glared back at her. Clarissa ached as she watched them. Even after everything that Jonathan had done, Clarissa missed her brother. The bond between them was so strong that it hurt to be working against him. She envied these two and their shared purpose.

"We'll find another way," Jace interrupted their contest of wills. "We can find a way to Idris together. We'll figure out what happened to your parents."

Isabelle nodded slowly, as she fingered her pendent. "Why don't we survive tonight first before deciding if we should join forces? There are demons here, and we have work to do."

"Do we need invitations?" Clarissa asked.

Alec smirked. "We're gate crashing, a fairly easy task given the legendarily lax security at Magnus's parties."

"Let's go." Jace's jaw was firm.

The four Shadowhunters secured their masks before approaching the front door, which swung open almost before they knocked. The lyrics to a song played heavily in the background, and although Clarissa didn't recognize the verse, she found the words appropriate.

'We are young. Heartache to heartache we stand. No promises, no demands.'

She wondered if this style of music was popular amongst Downworlders.

The woman who greeted them at the door offered a drooping hand to Jace. Jace bent and kissed it: someone had clearly taught him the importance of manners. Although Clarissa had never met a vampire, it was clear that this woman was a bloodsucker. Her skin was too pale and her lips looked like they had been painted with blood. Clarissa wished that Jace hadn't touched her dirty Downworlder skin.

The woman smiled a wide awful smile. "Shadowhunter children," she hissed.

"Magnus has quite the sense of humor."

"Where is he?" Alec asked nonchalantly.

She shrugged. "I wouldn't know." Watching the woman flick a dark speck off her dress, Clarissa wondered if it was blood. "You should try the third floor. Magnus was up there a few hours ago indulging in games of chance. Perhaps he's still there."

XOXOXOXO

When Simon reached the front door there was no sign of Clarissa or Jace. They'd obviously gone in without him. He put on his mask and approached the door. Here goes nothing. He took a deep breath and then knocked. The tail end of Pat Benatar's 'We Are Young' was playing in the background. Simon wondered if tonight's soundtrack would be all eighties hits. He wasn't sure if he should be happy about that or annoyed.

A strangely glamorous vampire-esque woman opened the door. She looked like she had seen the Twilight movies too many times. He couldn't wait for Vampires to stop being fashionable.

"I had a feeling that if I manned the door long enough, I would be presented with a treat. You look very tasty."

"Umm, okay." Simon rolled his eyes. "I'm looking for my friends. They must have come in a few minutes ago."

She put a hand up to his cheek and trailed her fingers down the side of his neck and finally found a resting place on his clavicle.

Simon shivered and closed his eyes. There was something demandingly sensual in the woman's touch. Maybe he could afford to be distracted for a little bit.

He followed her into the mansion and down a dark deserted passageway, without a thought to his future or to his safety.


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **First and foremost, thank you to onesmartcookie78 for an excellent beta job. Second, I'm going to be pretty flaky this month, because I'm doing Nanowrimo and it is sucking away most of my creativity. But, I won't abandon this story, for I have great and devious plans for it. Also, I borrowed Lord Loss from the Demonata stories by Darren Shan.

**Chapter 13: Magnus**

Magnus absently touched the rim of his empty wine glass for luck before he peered at the cards he had been dealt through charcoaled cat eyes. One would think that being a warlock - and not just any warlock, but the most talented warlock in generations - would have lent him a touch of luck, but it hadn't. As his hands had gotten progressively worse, he had considered cheating, but then reconsidered, as it was generally unwise to cheat when playing against the undead. He pushed two pieces of silver forward on the table.

"Would you like another glass, sir?" Verity asked.

As Magnus glanced at his glass again, he noticed that solid particulates had settled at the bottom. Had he been poisoned? Is that why he felt so groggy? And much more importantly, was that why he was losing?

He smiled, not wanting to acknowledge his suspicion.

"Yes, please. Some more of the Syrrah."  
"Very good, sir."

After Verity returned with a second glass and then disappeared back into the din of the party, Magnus offered a false toast to his comrades.

"I should probably accept my losses and call it a night. My guests will be disappointed if I don't make the rounds. Gentlemen." Magnus stumbled to his feet, but before he could step away from the table, Traegen stopped him.

"You aren't going anywhere, Bane."

Magnus sighed and sank back into his chair. "What do you want? You've already taken my coins, I can't imagine what else I could have to offer."

Traegen looked over at the two other vampires flanking Magnus.

"Fifteen years ago we signed the Accords. But the Shadowhunters are at war with each other, and they have not approached the Children of the Night for a new signing. The date has passed. We have waited long enough."

"What do you expect me to do about it? The Children of Lilith haven't been approached either. And as far as I am aware, neither have the Children of the Moon or the Fae. I'm content to wait for the Nephilim to finish their war before taking a rash action."

"We're not content to wait. We've been approached by Lord Loss. He wants to treaty."

Magnus shifted in his chair. Even with the drug fogging his brain, the thought of Lord Loss chilled Magnus to the marrow of his bones. "I can't speak for all of my people. But I have no intention of compromising with Lord Loss."

Traegan pulled a small round globe from his pocket and threw it into the air.  
Magnus watched as it spun and spun in the air, casting rays of speckled light.  
"I really had hoped you'd be reasonable. Lord Loss was very particular about recruiting you onto the team."  
"What the hell is that?" Magnus asked.  
"A portal of sorts, and a rather ingenious one at that. We weren't entirely sure it would make it through your wards, but clearly we didn't have a problem. Lord Loss would appreciate you grant him an audience. One of his minions will be arriving shortly to escort you to his denizen."

Magnus managed to free himself from Traegan's grasp. Although, he couldn't make it to the door, he did manage to plaster himself against a wall in the back of the room. His eyes went wide in shock as he watched a black hand ooze out of the speckles of light, and a demon outlined in slimy scales descended into the room.  
"Magnus Bane," the demon hissed.

This was out of control. Magnus scrambled for a weapon, but Traegan must have emptied the room of anything useful while Magnus was distracted with the game.

"You're not taking me."

"Magnus Bane, Lord Loss has requested you attend him."

"Well, tell him I'm not interested."

The demon's forked tongue flicked in and out of a wide mouth filled with razor sharp teeth. "That is not an option. You will attend him." The demon oozed toward Magnus. And Magnus screamed. The demon raised a tentacle and the yelp seemed to be absorbed into the tentacle.  
The demon shuddered in a strange throbbing ecstasy. "Your fear is a most lovely aphrodisiac."  
The tentacle whipped through air and wrapped around Magnus's neck. Magnus felt all hope die as the demon dragged him towards the ball of speckled light.

XOXOXOXOXO

It all felt wrong. Izzy preferred her combat in the wide spaces of the outdoors, where she had all of nature's tools at her fingertips. A sensation of claustrophobia overwhelmed her, and to steady herself she tightened her grip on the handle of her whip as the pull of her pendent drew her up the winding steps towards the third floor. She led her brother and the other two they had picked up at the mansion's entrance. She was always taking point. Alec was useful in a fight, but there was really no question as to the identity of the true leader in the Lightwood family. Izzy liked being in control, but sometimes the responsibility overwhelmed her.

"Did you hear that?" Alec asked.

"Hear what?" Izzy, Jace and Clarissa asked in unison.

"I thought I heard a scream." Alec pointed to one of the doors set into the far wall. He moved in front of Izzy and touched the handle. He tried to pull it open, but it was firmly bolted shut. His heart was thudding hard against his ribcage, and although he wasn't sure why, he knew they had to get into that room.

"I got this," Jace said, bravado heavy in his voice. Izzy, Clarissa and Alec moved out Jace's way, and watched as he kicked down the door.

At the sight of the oozing black demon killing a young man, Izzy's whip was in the air and lancing through the demon's neck, beheading it. Jace jumped on the demon's lurching back and ran his Seraph blade through its heart, while Alec removed the demon's tentacle from around the man's neck. It seemed to take forever to free the man, as the tentacle appeared frozen in place. But finally Alec freed him. He touched the man's cheek, and watched as the man's pale green eyes fluttered open. Struck by how exotic and almost beautiful the man looked, Alec shook with the irrational desire to trace the man's lips with his fingers.

"Hey, are you alive?" Alec asked.

The man jerked under Alec's touch and gurgled out a response. "Traegan... Don't let the vampires escape..."

"There aren't any vampires here. You and that demon were alone," Alec responded.

As the other three Shadowhunters took down the demon, Clarissa edged into the room. Her eyes were drawn to a beautiful ball of light glimmering in the center of the room. It was so pretty. She reached her hand up to touch it and with no trace of a warning she disappeared.


	15. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Thank you **onesmartcookie78 for another great beta job. Also, just to let you guys know, I failed miserably at Nanowrimo - only 30k words. I'll have to try again next year...

**Chapter 14: Broken Hearts**

Jace watched as the girl with the red hair and dazzling eyes disappeared into a whirl of light that got smaller and smaller until she was completely and utterly erased. He was frozen as he watched, unable to move. By the time he was able to free his limbs and act, he was much too late.

"Clarissa! Oh god!" He cried, as he fell to his knees in the now empty space where she had been standing. "Clarissa!"

"What the hell? Where is she?" Alec asked.

"That was very strange," Izzy said, a nonchalant tone in her voice.

Jace turned on Alec, and grasped the lace trimmed collar of the man in Alec's arms who had just moments ago been in the process of being attacked by a demon.

"Where is she?" Jace demanded. "What do you know?"

The charcoaled cat eyes of the man peeked open, and looked straight up at Jace. "My, my, what do we have here?" The man smiled, as if he wasn't being throttled.

Jace tightened his grip on the man's collar, his face white. "Where is she? She just disappeared into nothing."

Alec sidled over to them, and managed to remove Jace's hands from around the man's neck.

"Look," Alec said, clearly trying to be reasonable. "One of our friends just disappeared. And since we did just save you from being eaten, you kind of owe us an explanation if you have one."

The man pursed his lips, as if trying to decide if he wanted to talk. And then he sighed. "Well, your friend is in a world of trouble. That portal was meant for me. It was a summons to see Lord Loss."

Jace swallowed, his throat tight and hot. "Lord Loss..." he whispered. "That's not possible."

"Many things are possible young Shadowhunter."

"You sound like a seer," Alec choked out a laugh.

"I'm a warlock. And it doesn't take a seer to know that Lord Loss is very real and very dangerous."

Alec frowned. "You're Magnus Bane then," Alec said. "I've crashed your parties a few times before, but I've never met you."

"Not surprising. I tend to play hard to get."

Alec arched a brow. "My name's Alec." Alec inclined his head at his sister. "My sister, Izzy." He then inclined his head at Jace. "And our friend Jace. It was Jace's friend Clarissa who disappeared."

His eyes burning with fear, Jace turned away from the others. "Can you - can you send us to where Clarissa went so we can find her," he choked.

Magnus shook his head. "There's nothing I can do. No one may enter the realm of Lord Loss without permission. Except for maybe the Queen of the Fae..."

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Clarissa realized that she had made a terrible mistake as the room disappeared. But there was nothing she could do. The portal she had walked into had thrown her unceremoniously onto a cobbled road. Her knees and palms scraped against the rough surface. Her hands, covered in scratches, stung with tiny shrieks of pain. She sighed and pushed herself up. The grey sky was alight with jagged streaks of light and there were staircases floating in the air, and a stone turreted castle set off in the mist. She turned around and noticed a large black lake. Peering into the water, she tried to make out the shapes floating near the surface. A pale milk white hand reached out of the water, and Clarissa stepped back to avoid its fingers that were making grasping gestures in the air. The shapes were human bodies with the gilled heads of fish - unpleasant versions of mermaids. The fish heads snapped at her. She took a deep breath, backing away from the lake. Well, the lake was definitely not an option. Perhaps the inhabitant of the castle could help her return to the mundane world, for she had surely been deposited very odd and otherworldly place.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Jonathan Christopher held tight to the severed heart in his hand, which had once belonged to Hodge Starkweather. He had called Lilith, his true mother, to him once he had realized that Clarissa had abandoned him. And she was helping him create a portal to exit the manor's grounds, when that fool Hodge had appeared in search of Valentine. Hodge's heart had made the perfect vessel for both the portal and a means of finding his sister. It throbbed and bled as he walked down the streets of the strange modern city. He stared the skyline, impressed with the shiny buildings scraping the sky. This marvel of mundane technology made Idris - or rather what was left of Idris - seem, well, quaint in comparison. If the mundanes had accomplished so much, perhaps his father had been right, and they were a force to be feared.

The charmed heart's rhythmic beat led him down another dead end. The problem with the charm was that it was sending him to Clarissa in a straight line, which was a problematic approach in the mundane world.

"Hey, fool, hand over yer bank?" A teenage boy, who was leading a pack of three other boys stepped out of dark alley. He was holding a shiny metal object aimed directly at Jonathan's head. A gun, Jonathan wondered. He had never seen one up close.

Jonathan arched a brow. "You're making a mistake, gentlemen."  
"No mistake. I be strapped." The boy was hopping from one foot to the other, the gun bouncing in his outstretched hand.

Jonathan put his blades through the throats of the boys without a moment of hesitation, being certain to take out the one with the gun first. He knelt by the body of the dead boy and picked up the gun and carefully stroked the shiny metal. He'd just have to figure out how to use it.

It took another two hours for the throbbing heart to lead him to the crumbling mansion. He didn't think the owner would welcome him in, so he broke a window and crawled through. The inside stank of Downworlders. He tightened the hood of his cloak and navigated through the shadows following the beat of the heart.

He had to stop and hide behind an almost closed door, after hearing the click clack of heels and the whimpering of a mundane. Peering out of the crease in the door, he watched as an icy blond vampire led a mundane down the corridor. As a Shadowhunter, he should feel compelled to save the boy from a very unpleasant fate, but he really didn't care. After it was clear that they were out of earshot, he left the empty room and continued to follow the heart up two flights of stairs to a door on the third floor that ebbed with Clarissa's print. The door of the room was hanging awkwardly from a broken hinge, having clearly been forced open already.

He looked around the room; there were three young Shadowhunters and a warlock, but no Clarissa. The heart in his hand went cold and motionless. But that wasn't fair she wasn't even here.

"Where is my sister?" He demanded of the room's occupants who were staring at him and the bleeding heart in his hand in horror.


	16. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: **Thank you to Onesmartcookie78 for another great and very quick edit. As always I own neither characters nor any other part of this story. I apologize for my extended absence. I was traveling over the holidays, but I'm back now so here we go...

**Chapter 15: Lord Loss**

Lord Loss's sleeping chambers contained five floating chessboards in various stages of play. He was presently immersed in a game against himself for he had long grown tired of playing against his minions, the lost souls he drew from the primordial ooze. The other four games in play were against allies: Valentine Morgenstern of the Shadowhunters, Alexei de Quincey of the Vampires, Meliorn the Faerie Knight, and Woolsey Scott the old Werewolf. He was hopeful that the Warlock, Bane, would be proficient at the game. But, of course, there was no guarantee. Scott was so senile that he seemed to forget that they were even playing, and Meliorn was an indifferent player at best. At least de Quincey and Morgenstern still offered a challenge.

His game against the Shadowhunter Morgenstern had gone dark days ago, generally a sign that his opponent was no longer amongst the living. A shame. He needed a powerful Shadowhunter to complete the quorum - and Shadowhunters were a notoriously difficult breed to persuade. It had taken him years to of subtle hints and bargains to convince Valentine - during his adolescence - that the Shadowhunters were corrupt and a regime change was in order. He'd had to play the role of a displaced Shadowhunter to make the ruse believable. But Valentine had proved a very reliable ally, even after he realized that Lord Loss was a demon lord. Idris and the reign of the Shadowhunters was no more - a perfect first step. Such a shame that Morgenstern would need to be replaced.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

As Clarissa approached the castle, it became clear that it was not constructed of stone and mortar as she had at first thought. Instead the castle, which was encircled by a moat filled with inky water, seemed to be spun out of fine silk webs.

"Hello?" She called out.

At the sound of her voice, a drawbridge slid open, offering her a path across the black watered moat. She pressed her hand against the railing, and pulled away sticky fingers. The webs must be extraordinarily strong, for they seemed to have no trouble holding her weight as she crossed the bridge. A figure descended from out of the shadows and floated across the bridge to meet her. He almost looked like a spider, with eight arms extending out from his torso. The sores over his nearly naked body oozed and bled. Flaps of skin dragged against the ground, leaving parts of his anatomy exposed. His rib cage gaped open, and in the position that should have held a heart there was a mess of slithering green snakes.

Clarissa stood paralyzed in the center of the drawbridge, as the figure glided towards her. It was so hideous - like a caricature of a demon. But of course he was likely a real demon - and not the cute fluffy kind. Which meant that she had happened upon a demon realm - a very dangerous choice of venue.

"You are not Magnus Bane," he hissed.

"No. I'm not." She squared her shoulders. It's not like she hadn't been in the presence of evil before. Hell, this demon would be hard pressed to compete with her father or brother when it came to immorality. He was just a demon. She offered a deep curtsy. Manners were a girl's best defense after all.

"My name is Clarissa."

"Clarisssssaaa. How sweet. Are you perchance Clarissa Morgenstern - daughter of Valentine Morgenstern?"

She nodded.

"How convenient. You have entered my domain, my dear. Do you know who I am?"

Clarissa shook her head. "No, but I presume you're one demon lord or another. They all seem rather interchangeable."

"I am Lord Loss," he offered his name in a manner that suggested that he expected her to be very impressed.

"My lord." She inclined her head. It was lucky that she knew that the demon lords appreciated manners. Her father's instructions on that front would prove useful she hoped.

"You took the portal I sent for Bane?"

"I don't know who the portal was intended for. I just touched the pretty light. Clearly a mistake on my part."

"I see."

Searching for a way to the keep the conversation going, Clarissa continued.  
"And I am very appreciative of your hospitality in the face of my unexpected intrusion."

"Are you really, my dear?"

"Of course."

"Shouldn't you be begging me to return you to the mortal realm?"

"Would you return me if I asked?" She asked as she searched his eyes. She wasn't a fool. She didn't really expect him to say yes so easily. But she ought to have him clarify his position.

"No. I would hardly do that. Now would I?"

"Well then perhaps I should endeavor to be entertaining. Do you enjoy games?" Another trick her father had taught her about demons - the few that had risen high enough in the hierarchy to be deemed of the nobility class were generally bored enough to enjoy distractions. "Perhaps ... chess?" she offered.

His lips quirked. "A game would be quite diverting. I have several lovely sets. I am so glad you play. There is another matter we ought to discuss, I think. You are a Shadowhunter, are you not?"

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Jace's eyes traveled down the boys form to the head hanging from his hand.

His eyes narrowed. He knew that head. "Did you kill Hodge? Why did you do that?"

Jonathan lifted up the lifeless head. "Did you know this man? He was trespassing."

Jace's lips trembled. "Yes. He was my friend."

Izzy jumped into a defensive stance, her whip at the ready.

"Wait, this doesn't make sense," Alec said. "You're a Shadowhunter. You're one of us. How could you murder one of our kind?"

"Don't be naive," Izzy snapped.

"I know who you are. You're Clarissa's brother?" Jace asked the boy, as he tried to get a hold of himself.

"You know my sister. Where is she? I followed her trail here, but it seems to have evaporated."

"She disappeared. We think she got caught in a portal that sent her to Lord Loss."  
"The portal was meant for me," Magnus croaked. "Your sister is a lost cause now. You ought to forget her."

"Lord Loss?" Jonathan's voice cracked. "No." The weakness in his voice seemed strange coming from a man who just severed the head of a man for the minor offence of trespassing.

"We'll find her," Jace said. "She's not a lost cause."

"No. _I_ will find her. She's _my_ sister. You have no dominion over the matter."


	17. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: **Many thanks to Onesmartcookie78 for a great review and thank you to everyone who is reading.

**Chapter 16: The Seelie Court**

Without another word, Clarissa's brother turned on his heel and fled the room. Jace considered following him; he was due some revenge for Hodge's death, but that would have to wait. Finding Clarissa had to be his top priority. After she was safe, he could consider his options. He had only known her for days really, but it felt as if they were bound by something much stronger than their short acquaintance should warrant, and he couldn't stand the idea of her being in danger. Although he would never admit it, he was looking forward to being her savior.

"Well, that was interesting," Izzy quipped.

Jace turned on Magnus. "You said the Seelie Queen could send me to Lord Loss."

"I said the Queen of the Fae _might_ be willing to send you to into the demon realms. But the queen does not grant favors freely. She'll want something in return and it will likely be something you will not easily part with."

"It doesn't matter. I have to go. I'd do anything to find her. She needs me." Jace turned to Alec. "Will you and your sister come with me? It won't be simple. I may need your help."

Alec looked conflicted, but eventually his face fell. "We can't go."

"He's right. We need to go to Idris and find our parents. It's been too long since we've heard from them."

"I can send you to Idris," Magnus offered. "That's within my power. You wouldn't even be the first Shadowhunter I sent there today."

"Who else did you send?"

"Jocelyn Morgenstern. She came to me yesterday. She's been missing for almost fifteen years. Everyone who mattered thought her husband had killed her. Her appearance was something of a shock - let me tell you. And she was in quite the hurry to return to Idris."

"Oh, then you're the one we were looking for. Jocelyn is Clarissa's mother. Or well she thought she might be her mother. Her explanation was sort of confusing."

Magnus smiled. "My, my. We are living in a small world, aren't we? It sounds like you have reason to go to Idris as well."

Jace shook his head. "I can't go. I have to try to find Clarissa." He turned to Alec. "But look for my grandmother, her name is Imogen Herondale. She's an Inquisitor, so she should be easy to find. She sort of looks like me, but her eyes are steely and she's got an iron tongue. Let her know that I'm okay."

"What about your parents?" Izzy asked.

Jace shrugged, and tried not to let his face expose any weakness. "Unfortunately, they died a long time ago. Could you also tell Imogen that Hodge is dead? And tell her that we think Valentine Morgenstern was posing as Michael Wayland, and was holing up in his manor house, but that we think that his son Jonathan killed him. Jonathan is dangerous. Tell Imogen not to underestimate him."

"So, the boy with the head was Valentine Morgenstern's son?" Alec asked. "That's sick."

"But useful," Izzy added. "If Valentine is really dead, it might change the course of the war. We really need to tell our parents." She eyed him carefully. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us to Idris? Perhaps the Clave could help us find Clarissa. They'd be far better suited to take on a demon lord then any of us."

Jace shook his head. "I can't wait."  
"I could help you get to the Seelie court," Magnus offered.

"There's no need. I've got it covered." He twisted the brass fairy ring on his finger and disappeared.

Jace emerged into a phosphorescent wooded glen, where fauns danced with nymphs under a starlit sky. Several fauns stood at the outskirts of the reverie and played a contagious jig on pan flutes. Delicate flowers draped a long table that was covered high with pastries and dishes of seasoned meats. About a dozen mundanes were gathered around the table, gorging themselves on the fare. Jace knew better then to indulge, for if he took one bite he would be condemning himself to a lifetime imprisonment. He owed Hodge for his insistence on a thorough education. He closed his eyes. He and Hodge had not always gotten along, but he missed the man.

A nymph of great beauty danced over to Jace and held out a hand to him. The slant of her eyes, the point to her ears and the grace in her steps reminded him of Glory, the fairy from the costume shop. "Dance with me," she tittered.

For a moment, Jace was tempted, but he forced himself to remember that he had a purpose. He wasn't aimless. He had Clarissa. She needed him.

He shook his head. "No. I'd like to see the queen."

"As you wish." She shrugged, before returning to the dancers.

The fauns playing flutes changed their tune, and the mundanes left the table and lined up behind the fauns, and followed them as they pranced into the forest.

"Are you sure you aren't interested in any of the food we have on offer. I can assure you that you won't be disappointed."

Jace flinched, surprised by the suddenness of the voice. A man dressed in quicksilver livery, with the broad shoulders and height of a linebacker had somehow managed to appear at Jace's side without a sound. He had an odd way of looking both intimidating and elegant.

"My only interest is in meeting with the queen."

The man sighed, clearly disappointed that he couldn't sway Jace into trading his life away. "That is what I expected. She is waiting for you."

After following the fairy knight through a path through the woods and into a vine covered stone castle, they entered a gilded throne room, where the fairy queen lounged on an ornate wooden throne. Roses and lilies grew in circles around her feet and up the stone walls. The curls of her long hair dripped with gems and pearls. She gripped a glowing scepter, which held within it the largest black diamond in the entire world. After the fairy knight, who had delivered Jace to the throne room, took a seat at the queen's feet, the queen stroked his head. Jace wondered if they were lovers.

"Those are fairy clothes on your back, Shadowhunter. You must be the one Glory spoke of. But, she told me there would be three of you."

Jace closed his eyes. He had forgotten about Simon - the mundane they had led to the party. He could only hope that Simon had the foresight to have gone home after dropping them off, but there was little Jace could do to save him if the boy had braved the party on his own.

"There were three of us. But, my friend was taken into the demon realms. We believe she was taken by Lord Loss."

"How unfortunate."

"Yes, well. I was hoping you could send me in, so that I could save her."

"You wish me to send you into the demon realms. That is an unwise course. You are very handsome. I would welcome you here in my court. I could make you into a knight, like my dearest Meliorn."

The fairy at her feet must be Meliorn, for he frowned at the suggestion.

"I very much appreciate the offer, but I can't. You must understand, I have to find Clarissa."

"There is something about you, young Shadowhunter. Something important. But, I cannot quite remember. How tedious." The queen's brow knit in concern, but her expression was quickly replaced with a slow smile. "No matter."

"Can you send me to Lord Loss?"

"Like all things, there will be a price."

"Name it."

"I will send you in chains, as a sacrifice, as my tithe to hell. It's the only way. Do you still wish to enter the domain of Lord Loss?"

Jace choked at the thought of imprisonment of any form. But, he could not leave Clarissa in the clutches of a demon lord. He just couldn't.

He nodded slowly. "If that is the only way, we have a deal."


	18. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: **Thank you Onesmartcookie78 for a great beta job. Also we are getting close to the end ... three more chapters left. I also wanted to say that I completely regret making Simon's hair blond.

**Chapter 17: Jonathan's Plea**

Jonathan's black eyes burned as he stared into the fire. He didn't flinch as he drew the blade across his wrist. He flicked his blood into the blaze, and watched as it sizzled and shrieked. The flames turned blue and then green and then red again. Wisps of smoke streamed into the air, and a woman materialized before Jonathan, her red hair alight with brimstone.

Jonathan knelt before her and bowed his head. "Mother," he whispered.

Her hands lifted his chin up and she kissed his lips. Her forked tongue burned in his mouth.

"My son. How went your interlude with Jocelyn? Did she take you to her bosom in love as you had so wished?"

His eyes avoided hers. "No. She feared me."

"And why was that?"

"Because, she is not my true mother. You are."

"Yesss," she hissed. "Jocelyn was merely the vessel that bore you. I am your mother. It is my blood that runs through your veins."

"Yes mother."

"Did you slay Valentine as we discussed?"

He nodded.

"Very good. Now, we are ready to approach Lord Loss. He will have to listen this time. Without Valentine as his puppet, he will be in sore need of our help. And you have demonstrated your worthiness.

"Wait, there is a problem. My sister..."

"That girl is not your sister."

His body deflated. He was in a very difficult position. He had intended to sacrifice Clarissa in the name of the kingdom of hell, as Lilith had instructed. But, as the moment drew nearer, and with her at the mercy of Lord Loss, his will was weakening. They had a difficult relationship. But whatever small human part of him still capable of affection, was in existence because of her. "I don't want her punished. I don't want her dead. There must be a way to spare her."

Lilith frowned, but Jonathan's expression did not waver. "We will go to Lord Loss. He will decide what to do with the girl. Perhaps he will take your wishes into consideration." Lilith beckoned to Jonathan. "Come with me, my son."

He followed her into hell. A single memory strangled his mind as his body made the leap through the fire.

He was seven, and she was five.

He held the dead bird up to his father, its neck severed.

His father looked up from his papers, his eyes narrowed. Why couldn't he ever look pleased to see his son?

"Is that the eagle I bought for you?"

"I wanted to see if it would cry if I killed it." Jonathan blinked, with no expression in his black eyes.

His father sneered with disgust. "I went too far with you. You have no soul. I should put you out of your misery. Get out of here. Or I'll do it."

Jonathan fled the room, the dead bird falling at his feet.

He searched the manor for Clary. He used to call his sister Clary when she was little, but only when he needed her. And he needed her now.

He found her sitting by the pond outside. She was making a ship out of paper.

She looked up at him, fear flashing in her eyes. Did she hate him too?

He took the paper out of her hands. "I'll help you, Clary," he offered. These gestures of kindness always pained him, but he blinked the ache away.

A little secret smile crossed her lips.

When he was finished, he handed the ship to her, and she placed it in the water. They watched as the wind caught the paper sail and the boat floated toward the center of the pond.

"Maybe we can find a real ship to carry us away from here," he said.

"I wish we could go. I don't like it here. Father scares me." She didn't say it, but Jonathan knew that he scared her too.  
"Close your eyes." He slipped his hand into hers. "We'll go now."

"You know we can't." A tear dripped onto her cheek. "There's nowhere to go." She opened her eyes. "Oh Jonathan. You're crying too. Why are you sad?"

"There's something wrong with me. I'm not right, Clary. What am I going to do? Father hates me."

"Father hates me too."  
"But he hates you, because you're good. He hate's me because I'm broken."

"You're good too," she offered.

"No, I'm not. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's okay, Jonathan. It's okay. I love you. She hugged him.

He looked up at her, his face strewn with tears. "Why do you love me? I don't even know if I love you. Maybe I can't love anyone."

"I love you because you're my brother. And you love me too. You just don't know it. You'll see."

As the memory disappeared, Jonathan was left with only the ghost of himself and his sister when they were children.

"I miss you, Clary," he whispered into the ether.


	19. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Onesmartcookie78 for a great edit. And thank you to everyone who is following this story. I'm glad it is being read. Well wishes to everyone.

**Chapter 18: Simon's Story**

The room spun around Simon in dizzying drunken waves as he danced with the sexy blonde in wide, wild circles. It seemed like they had been dancing for hours. She clung to him with a strength that seemed impossible given her diminutive stature. He trembled as she traced a nail along his cheek. Was he going to lose his virginity tonight? It seemed like a distinct possibility, given the intimacy of this woman's body against him. He didn't even know her name. This was not at all how he had pictured it. But ... he wasn't going to say no. He liked Clarissa, but it seemed like she might be romantically attached to that other guy. And, although he had wanted there to be something between them, for he had felt like he was supposed to be connected to her, the more he thought about it, the more he had to admit that the ties between them were mere illusion, with no form or structure. He'd be a fool to turn down the opportunity to be with this woman, who was pressing herself so firmly against him.

He turned his head, at an odd sound coming from upstairs. It was only a thump really, muffled by floors of insulation. But it caught him off guard. And with his eyes twisted away from the woman on his arm, he was able to see her from the corner of his eye. There are things you can only see from the corner of your eye - things that the dark usually hides from the casual observer. In this instance, Simon's eyes were positioned at just the right angle to allow him to catch a flash of the woman's true form. And the sight terrified him. Her open mouth exposed razor sharp teeth. And the deep red of her lipstick looked more like blood then makeup. Somehow he hadn't noticed that her eyes burned red as well. She was a predator. And he was just food. It was impossible. There was no such thing as vampires. His heartbeat sped up in response to the surge of fear running through his veins - a very typical a mortal response.

She seemed to find amusement in his sudden tension. More than amusement. Her grip on his shoulders tightened. He tried to pull free, but she was much stronger then she should have been. Her mouth opened wider than a mouth should be able to open, and her teeth were coming ever closer to the vulnerable flesh of his neck.

He didn't know where the idea came from, but he was damn glad it came. He turned the brass fairy ring on his finger, just in time to save himself from being bitten. It was just a ring. It shouldn't have done anything at all. But it changed everything.

He was in a forest. Moss hung low from trees so tall they scraped the purple sky. There were forest sounds, birds twitching in the trees and squirrels scurrying from branch to branch. But there were other noises too. The notes of a soft haunting melody swept through the forest. It was the sort of song that held an old power. Simon didn't recognize the design, but he did appreciate its beauty. He was a musician. Music meant something to him. He walked in careful steps toward its source.

Fawns danced in rings around a large table filled with food and wine. Simon stopped short. This was definitely not his world. He had fallen into a fairy tale, and he feared there was no turning back.

A young girl with pointed ears and long golden hair that fell down her naked back, wearing only a skirt made out of leaves, pranced up to him and held out a hand.

"Dance with me, kind sir."

Simon wasn't certain that he should follow her, but she seemed sweet, with none of the dark undertones of the woman in the manor. She wrapped her arm around him and pulled him into the throng of dancing girls. She laid her head on his shoulder and they danced to the rhythm of the fawn's lullaby.

She sang softly in his ear as they danced, with a soft lilting voice that made him feel as if the whole world could melt around him and he would still be happy. Unlike the woman at the manor, her touch was light as a feather. It felt as if they had only been dancing for moments, yet he knew hours must have passed. He looked up and noticed that the sun was gone, having been replaced by a full hunter's moon.

His throat started to tighten and dry, and he felt a chill wind touch him.

He looked down at his body and noticed that his clothes had disappeared. He reddened in embarrassment, but the girl only tittered.

"Would you like a drink to slake your thirst? And perhaps some food? I could find you some replacement garb to cover your nakedness while you eat." The nymph whispered into his ear.

He nodded, thankful for the reprieve from the dance, and thankful that she could save him from the embarrassment of losing his clothes.

She led him to the table where he drank deep from the ewers of amber wine and ate his fill from the silver gilded plates of sweet meats. The result of his indulgence was a haze blurring his eyes, as he stumbled to the grassy floor. The girl pulled him to his feet and hung a grass skirt about his waist.

She ran a hand along his arm. "My dear. We should return to the dance."

He didn't wish to dance anymore, but the power of the song had him in its clutches. He feared he would have to follow the girl. He feared he had lost his free will.

A knight in gleaming armor strode through the crowd, moving nymphs and fawns aside. After reaching Simon, he stopped the nymph from pulling Simon back into the circle.

"The queen wants this one," he told her.

Her pert lips turned into a frown, but she didn't argue.

He placed a hand on Simon's shoulder and led him out of the ring of dancers.

Although it hurt to leave the dancing, Simon was grateful that he had been saved. It struck him that he might have been better off at the mercy of the vampire.

They walked through miles of forest before reaching a castle overrun with vines and flowers. The knight pushed him through the castle doors and into an ornate throne room where courtiers playing lutes to entertain a crowned queen. The songs stopped short as the knight led Simon up to the throne. The knight knelt at her feet and Simon followed suit.

"You may rise, Meliorn."

The knight rose, but Simon remained on his knees as if they were glued to the stone floor.

"Is this the second?" The queen asked.

"Yes. I found him dancing with the nymphs. He has already sipped from the juices of the forest.

The queen pursed her lips as she stared at the boy. "Look at me boy," the queen said to Simon.

Simon looked up and met her gaze, and she searched his eyes.

"He is not the one. It must be the third we seek."

"What do you wish me to do with him, my queen?"

"Send him back to the nymphs. I want to keep him at hand in case we need him."


	20. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone reading this story. Thank you to onesmartcookie78 for edits. Also, I just started reading onesmartcookie78's new Harry Potter story, 'Only the Good are Weak'. It's amazing! Blisteringly, completely, beautifully amazing.

**Chapter 19: An Unexpected Reunion**

Clarissa placed her hand on the queen and slid it three squares across the board.

"Checkmate," she whispered.

Lord Loss frowned, and examined the board with somber precision.

"You're a better player than your father," he offered with grim certitude.

Clarissa didn't smile. Her father was an amazing chess player, but he had a distinct style, and he made very particular mistakes. Lord Loss had erred in voicing his familiarity with her father's approach, which had led Clarissa to use Lord Loss's knowledge to trap him. It was the sort of trick that would likely only work once, maybe twice, if she were very lucky.

"Therefore you owe me one favor." She forced the tremor out of her voice.

"A small one, yes. So long as you refrain from asking for your freedom."

Clarissa nodded. "We play another game, for higher stakes. If I win ... you set me free." She paused. "And if you refuse my request, this will be the last game we play."

He hesitated, before arching an eyebrow in speculation. "Very clever, my dear."

A large throbbing maggot crawled through his empty eye socket. He plucked it out and chewed on it with his yellowed, cracked teeth. "I will think on this."

She could tell that he wanted to play another game. She leaned forward, a glint in her eyes. "Perhaps we shouldn't play. I think I'll rather enjoy my undefeated status."

"Let's not be hasty..."

A clattering sound at the chamber door interrupted them. Lord Loss sighed. "Enter."

A child sized creature, with an abnormally large head entered the room. He held up the palms of his hands, and Clarissa could see that each palm housed a mouth. The lips of the mouth on his right hand widened and he began to speak. "Master, I bear tidings from the Queen of the Fae. She is to send her tribute within the hour."

"An unplanned gift? That's very uncharacteristic of our fair lady." Lord Loss rubbed his hands together.

The creature nodded. "That is true, my lord."

"Very well then. Follow me, my dear. I think you will enjoy this little ceremony," he said, offering her one of his eight arms.

Clarissa almost choked at the thought of touching his dead, molting skin. But, it was imperative that she maintain the image of total calm. Demons will rip your soul out of your body at the slightest hint of fright. They can't help themselves. One's only defense is to appear fearless.

She took his arm with just a hint of an amused smile. "Lead the way, my lord."

As he settled her arm in the crook of his elbow, a shimmering of light engulfed her and the dress and heels she had been wearing disappeared into nothing.

She was left barefoot in a thin black lace trimmed silk slip. She had forgotten about the fairy clothes. She had forgotten about the fairy magic. For that matter, she had forgotten about the fairy ring. She considered twisting it on her finger, to see if it would transport her to the Queen of the Fae as Glory had promised. But, there would be time for that later. Time for that when she truly became desperate. The Queen would likely be just as dangerous as Lord Loss. And the Queen didn't owe her a favor.

"That was rather remarkable," Lord Loss commented.

"I thought a change of dress was in order." She kept her voice deadpan.

He lips twisted in a laugh. "You are more entertaining then your father. Now, we shall proceed."

They left, what Clarissa could only imagine was what Lord Loss considered a game room, and walked in slow measured steps towards a set of stairs that led downward. Clarissa held her breath as they descended into the dungeons. A ring of cells, filled with starving men and women huddled in corners encircled a pit of boiling lava. Clarissa couldn't help but wonder if her future rested in one of the grimy cells among the other prisoners. It was a painfully depressing vision.

A rumbling sound from above plucked at Clarissa's attention and her gaze drifted skyward. Two large gears were rotating in the arched ceiling and at an irritatingly slow pace a cage shifted toward the pit.

There was a golden haired man in the cage. He was naked, but for heavy chains wrapped around his muscled torso. He turned to look at her and she gasped as she recognized him. It was Jace. Her heart slammed against her rib cage as she watched him struggling in the iron chains that bound him. Had he come here to save her? How impossibly sweet. He represented all the hope and possibility of a new-found love to her - her first love - her only love - her only chance. Even though they had only met days ago, she could feel in her bones that he could be everything to her - her entire future. He was vain and silly at times, but he was on her side. They were alike in every important way.

"Clarissa!" The shout tore from his lips.

"Jace!" She called back.

Lord Loss's gaze fell on her. "So it seems we have found your weakness, my dear. How convenient."

She closed her eyes. It was a mistake to let Lord Loss know of her attachment to Jace. He now held a power over her. A power she would unlikely be unable to rescind from his tight, unyielding grasp.


	21. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story. It has been so fun to write. Thank you to Onesmartcookie78 for editing. Check out her Harry Potter stories. I also wanted to take a moment to comment on the Veronica Mars kickstarter campaign. I am a big Veronica Mars fan and am so excited about the possibility of a movie and I was so happy to have the opportunity to donate to this cause. If any of my readers are also fans I suggest you check out their campaign on kickstarter.

**Chapter 20: Clarissa's Choice**

The cage creaked as it descended unsteadily from the chamber's ceiling. Clarissa, whose eyes were trained on Jace, ran towards the cage in hopes of reaching him. But just as she got close, Lord Loss flicked his hand, causing a tentacle to slither off of the wall and wrap itself around her feet, preventing her from reaching the cage as it jolted to the ground. She struggled, but she couldn't free herself. She was so close to him now she could nearly reach him.

He stretched a hand through the bars, and their fingertips nearly touched.

Lord Loss floated towards Jace, and tapped his fingers on Jace's chest. Clarissa feared he was going to rip Jace's soul from his body. That was the sort of thing demons enjoyed- at least that was what the books said. She didn't want to lose him. They had just found each other. It wasn't fair.

"Wait! Can't I use my favor to free him?" Clarissa cried. The favor was her only card on the table, and she only hoped it would be enough.

Lord Loss stilled his hand before it could enter Jace's chest.

"You would barter your life, for his? Interesting."

"Don't Clarissa. I..." A plate of metal ripped off of the cage and bound Jace's mouth, so that he could no longer speak.

Lord Loss turned to Clarissa, a glint in his eye. "With your father dead, I need a Shadowhunter. I will free the boy, if it will buy me your loyalty."

Clarissa paused. It wasn't really a choice. She couldn't let Jace die, especially not like this.

"You don't need the girl," a woman's voice interrupted in a high-pitched whine.

Lord Loss and Clarissa turned their faces up to look up at a woman with red flowing hair and dressed in a red tight fitted gown hovering in the air. Her hand was firmly grasping the arm of a young man, whose eyes were blurred in confusion. The two floated down from the sky and the woman settled into position in front of Lord Loss. After his feet touched the ground, the boy shrugged away from her as if burned by her touch.

"What are you doing here Lilith?" Lord Loss hissed. "You are not welcome in my domain."

"I don't need an invitation anymore. My son is the key to all doors. His blood holds powers you can't fathom. With him at our disposal, you won't need your quorum to gain entry to Idris. His blood is the key. He holds the spirit of mortal, angel and demon in one. He is the one we have been waiting for."  
"You go too far. You and I are not allies. I thought I made that perfectly clear the last time we sparred. I don't care what you think you have in the boy."

"But..."

"Nothing you possess would be enough to entice me into joining forces with you." He floated toward her and took her neck in his hands.

"You can't do this..."

"You are wrong Lilith. I can do anything here. I will not let you try to rule me again." He squeezed her neck until her sight went black and she went limp in his arms.

Jonathan took another step away, horror in his eyes as he watched the demoness who claimed to be his mother fall to the ground and melt into a cloud of dark smoke. Was she really gone? He thought he should be sad, but he just felt empty.

"Oh, God," Clarissa cried.

Jonathan turned, and noticed his sister for the first time, tied to the ground by a thick throbbing tentacle.

He took a step towards her. "Oh, Clary."

"You came for me," she whispered. "You should have stayed away. It's not safe here."

"I couldn't let the demons have you. You're my sister. I had to at least try..."

Lord Loss's eyes turned to the two of them. "Well now, Clarissa, it seems you have ties to both of these boys. I think we should make this situation interesting. You may use your favor to save one of them. Your choice. I will keep the other."

She stared at the two young men. One represented the hope of love, and a future both shiny and bright. The second was her past, her only family, the roots of her existence. And even though Jonathan was often cruel, she knew he loved her.

She wished they had both stayed away. She could have protected herself. She could have saved herself. She would have been fine without them. But they had to try to rescue her. Why were boys so stupid?

"I choose ..." Her heart felt impossibly heavy in her chest as she made the impossible decision.

Jonathan looked at her, and she could see the boy who at rare times was so sweet, and she knew she couldn't just give up on him as their father always did, as their mother had.

"I choose my brother."

The words were barely past her lips when Lord Loss plunged his hand deep into Jace's chest and ripped out his heart and ate it. His long sharp teeth were covered in dripping blood as he chewed. After Jace's lifeless body slumped to the floor, Lord Loss reached into the empty cavity that had housed Jace's heart and yanked out a thin wispy slip of smoke and inhaled it.

Jonathan held Clarissa as she screamed into his chest. It was a terrible thing to watch a demon destroy a man and steal his soul - a mind numbing, impossible, heartbreaking thing.

Lord's Loss's eyes glowed red and he floated towards Jonathan and Clarissa.

"And now, my boy. I'd like to take a taste of this blood of yours. Let's see if Lilith was right."

Lord Loss ripped Jonathan away from Clarissa and as he clawed through Jonathan's flesh, Jonathan's blood sprayed all over her.

"But you promised..." Clarissa choked.

"I'm a demon. Demon's lie. You should know that by now, sweet girl."

"They why, why did you make me choose?"

"Because I wanted to see you squirm. I thought the choice would be harder for you."

She watched as his nails cut through her brother's throat and he tasted Jonathan's blood on his fingertips.

"Perhaps the witch was right. There is something about his blood. Perhaps I don't need you anymore, my little Shadowhunter girl. I imagine your soul is very tasty."  
Before Lord Loss could take hold of her, she turned the fairy ring on her finger, and she disappeared.


	22. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: **After reading your reviews, I felt terribly guilty for leaving the situation so dire.

**Chapter 21: The Queen Tells All**

Clarissa couldn't keep the tears from blinding her eyes. She wasn't sure if she was crying for Jace or for Jonathan or for them both. Or perhaps she was just broken up over her own fate; her past and her future had been stolen from her in the briefest of moments. It was unreal. It was unfair. It couldn't be. She sagged onto the ground, overcome by the futility of breathing, the futility of being. She wanted to rewind and replay the situation. If she had chosen Jace, would at least he still be alive? They could have built a life together. They could have married and had children. How could he be gone as if he never lived?

"It is you, isn't it?" A voice, sweet and light and unmarred by human trifles, trilled the question.

Clarissa fought to clear the tears from her eyes, while struggling to choke the harsh burn out of her throat.

She looked up and found herself in a wooded glen, being addressed by a woman who glowed with an otherworldly beauty.

"Who are you?"

"I am the Queen of the Fae. I have been waiting for you."  
"Waiting for me? Why?"

"You always come to me, when all is lost. There is much for us to speak of. But first there is something you must see, so that you may understand just how far we have fallen off course."

An image took light upon the air, exposing a battlefield scene. Hoards of minor and greater demons had fought there way into the center of Idris, and were clashing with Shadowhunters.

Lord Loss stood at the edge of the field, his hand firmly gripping, Jonathan's arm. Jonathan looked bloody and damaged, but alive. Clarissa gasped. She had thought her brother dead when she had turned the ring. Should she have stayed? Could she have saved him?

The scene shifted, and closed in on Jocelyn as she fell at the fist of an enormous greater demon. A dozen minor demons clamored at her fallen body, and Clarissa watched them feed on the woman who was likely her true mother.

Isabelle, Alec and Magnus stood back to back, felling one demon and then another. It seemed possible that they could save Idris with only their unflagging might and the deftness of Magnus's spells. They seemed so strong. They were the last standing. But as time passed, the demons kept coming, and it became clear that even they could not maintain their force. Four greater demons converged on them, and all Clarissa could see was a cloud of red mist, and when the demons separated, Isabelle, Alec and Magnus were gone.

The scene disintegrated. "I think we've watched enough, don't you?"

"Why would you make me watch this? It's so terrible."

"I want you to understand the danger we are in. Idris has fallen. The mortal realm will be next. The vampires and weres will try to protect it, but they will fail. I have made what provisions I could to protect my court. But it won't be enough. It never is."

"What are we supposed to do?"

The Queen sighed. "We must do what we always do, and hope this time we don't fail. Your brother's blood holds immense power. By merging mortal, angel and demon essences, your father created something that he could never fully understand. We can use your brother's blood to save ourselves, to save the future."

"How can we get his blood? Lord Loss has him held hostage."

"You're covered in his blood." She held a hand out and traced a line across Clarissa's jaw. When she pulled back her hand, it was smeared in red.

And Clarissa remembered. Lord Loss had slashed into her brother's flesh, while she stood by his side. She was indeed dripping in her brother's blood.

"We can use his blood to go back in time. But once we are there, we can only change one thing. And we can only make that change within the span of your brother's life. Last time, we chose to distract Valentine with Lord Loss, hoping that the demon's interest would unnerve Valentine enough so that he would betray himself to the Clave in time for them to step in. Clearly, we underestimated Lord Loss. We traded one evil for another."

"And what do we try next? I don't have any memories of these past versions of events."

"I remember them," the Queen said. "I think it's time we attempt the one thing you have been reluctant to try."

"And what is that?"

"We warn Jocelyn of Valentine's experiments on her son. It is possible that it will sway Jocelyn into revealing his plans to the Clave in time for them to thwart him."

"Why have I not wanted to try this before? It seems like a reasonable plan."

"You have been reluctant to risk what may happen to your brother. There is a chance that if Jocelyn is warned in time, she will run away with you and leave your brother behind. You will lose him. You will not love him. You will not know him. He needs you in order to have any hold on his humanity."  
Clarissa looked away into the endless forest. "I can understand how I wouldn't like that. I don't want to give him up. But, if we've tried everything else, what choice is there? We can't let the demons gorge on the world this way."

The Queen nodded. "I'm glad you agree. We have much to do. Follow me."

"I won't forget him," Clarissa whispered to herself. "I won't."

But, after the Queen and Clarissa finished their work, and the world replayed itself, Clary Fray took Clarissa's place. And Clary Fray didn't remember her brother. Clary Fray grew up loving her mother and her best friend Simon, and grew enamored with a Shadowhunter named Jace. And Jonathan grew up alone.

So ends this story, allowing the birth of another more familiar tale.

~ The End ~

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. You guys are awesome. I'm considering a sweet Clary/Jace epilogue to really zip up this story. In the meantime, I've self-published two stories and I am giving them away for free on smashwords and amazon (check out 'Anais of Brightshire'). Thank you guys again for reading.


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